


Harry and the Order of the Minotaur

by BWC



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Angst, Body building, Exploration of sexuality, Hogwarts Fifth Year, M/M, Magical Theory, Theory of Magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2021-04-04
Packaged: 2021-04-25 00:14:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 55
Words: 186,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22249192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BWC/pseuds/BWC
Summary: or; The Year Harry Built Some Serious MuscleHarry gets sorted into Ravenclaw in his Fifth Year. His new room-mates are an unexpected mix.
Comments: 64
Kudos: 144





	1. The First Night

**Author's Note:**

> In this version of the Harry Potter universe, all Hogwarts students are re-sorted every year. Oh, and term starts on the Monday closest to 1 September.
> 
> The usual disclaimers apply, in that many of the characters belong to other people and no money is being made from this story.
> 
> Rated Mature at present. Depending on how things go, I may need to update to Explicit.

Monday 2 September, 1996

Around me now was a group of guys I never thought I would be sharing a room with. But the annual resorting policy at Hogwarts through to sixth year meant that we didn’t become ingrained. But, Draco Malfoy, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Neville Longbottom and me sharing a Ravenclaw dorm room for Fifth Year was possibly the weirdest yet. Mind you, Ron had been put back in Slytherin for the second year in a row and Hermione was in Hufflepuff this year after being in Ravenclaw for the last two. At least we’d had the first couple of years together. This was my first year out of Gryffindor, so it was going to be interesting. But sharing a room with the toff as well as the Great Prat, well ...!

I hadn’t recovered yet from the effects of the Triwizard thing last year and I was still having nightmares of that graveyard and the noseless wonder’s return. I knew that Neville would continue to support me, but just how would Justin and Malfoy cope with me screaming every night? Justin still didn’t trust me after the snake incident in second year, and as for Malfoy. Let’s just say that our insults were becoming more creative as our vocabulary expanded.

“Hey guys,” it was Neville.

“What do you want Longbottom?” sneered Malfoy.

“Given we gotta live together this year, can we set some rules for in here? I mean, although there’s plenty of bad feeling between us, we still need to feel safe in this room.”

“What do you suggest?” Justin didn’t sound negative.

“Just no hexing each other in here and leaving each other’s stuff alone. It doesn’t mean we won’t fight, but that needs to happen somewhere else.”

I chipped in, “sounds sensible to me. What do you reckon?”

“Yeah, sounds okay to me. Malfoy?”

He paused before saying, “oh, alright. I suppose that’s fair enough. But don’t expect me to go easy on you out there, Potter.” And he gestured widely in the direction of the castle.

“Of course not. You wouldn’t be you if it were any other way.” Then, before he could respond to that, I said, “of course, the same applies the other way.”

He looked miffed for a moment, then turned to unpacking his trunk. A couple of flicks of his wand with a muttered spell and his clothes were in his set of drawers, all neatly folded as if Marie Kondo had been at them. I doubted he had ever heard of her and would probably be horrified at the thought that he was imitating a muggle.

I had no desire to demonstrate my inability to imitate him and chose to simply use the tried and true method of pulling out the top layer of stuff and dumping it randomly into my drawers. While I was doing that I heard a gasp from Malfoy.

“What on earth is that Finch-Fletchley?”

“What?”

“That garment you’re wearing.”

I looked up to see that he’d stripped down to a jock-strap. I shrugged, then took the opportunity to ogle his arse jutting out through the straps.

“You been working out this summer?” asked Neville.

“A bit.”

“A bit! Bloody hell. You’ve got slabs of meat on your chest and washboard abs. How are you going to maintain that in this place?”

Justin turned a bit to answer Neville and I caught sight of what Neville was exclaiming about.

“I’ll use the gym, of course.”

“What gym?” asked Malfoy.

“You mean you didn’t know there’s a gym here? It’s on the third floor opposite the statue of Basil the Bastard.”

Neville then asked tentatively, “will you help me learn how to train too? I know I need to exercise, and Quidditch isn’t a possibility for me.”

“Sure. What about you two? Do you want to do this as well?”

Malfoy and I looked at each other, then back at Justin. “Yes,” came from both of us. No way in hell did either of us want to miss out on this opportunity.

“Okay. Let’s wait for our timetables tomorrow morning, then work out when we’ve all got a chunk of free time. Now, strip off your shirts and let’s see what your starting points are.”

Oh, shit. They’re going to see my scars. I felt my usual glamour drop into place as I watched Neville pull off his shirt. He’d lost some of the podge he’d had for the past few years. It was like he was staying the same width and just getting taller.

Malfoy had carefully removed his robes and hung them in his closet. I’d taken mine off when I came into the room. We both paused and looked at each other.

“Scared Potter?”

“You wish Malfoy,” and, pulling my glasses off first, I quickly dragged my jersey and t-shirt over my head. When I could see again Malfoy was also standing there bare-chested. His chest and stomach were flat, but he wasn’t skinny.

“Ah, Potter?” said Justin.

“Yeah?”

“Drop the glamour, eh?”

“What? How do you know?” I spluttered.

“I can see magic.”

“You can what?” exploded Malfoy. He looked bewildered. A muggleborn who could do stuff with magic that he, a pureblood, could only dream of. I stored that look away to treasure at some time.

“I can see magic. I always have been able to. However, let’s not discuss that now as it’s getting away from the topic. Potter, why are you wearing a glamour?”

“Umm, uh,” I could hear myself stammering and inside I was panicking. They’re going to see the scars. They’ll know that you’re a freak. A real freak ... scarssss.

To my surprise Neville spoke up. “Harry, is this about your scars?”

I looked at him in shock.

“Harry, we shared a room already. And you hadn’t worked out how to keep a glamour up all the time, so I’ve already seen them.”

My brain froze and I fell to the floor and curled up into a ball. I held on to my knees and my glamour as hard as I could, then to my horror I heard a whimper escape from my mouth. I could feel part of my mind retreating and trying to hide. Part of me was aware of everything going on in the room, but the rest was folding rapidly in on itself.

Neville took charge. “Malfoy, call Dobby. Don’t argue, just do it.”

“Dobby.”

A pop sounded and I heard Dobby’s excitable voice. “What does not nice young master Malfoy want? What has happened to wonderful Harry Potter? What has yous done to him?”

“I asked Malfoy to call you. Harry is having a panic attack.”

Is that what this was, I thought as more whimpers escaped.

“Please get a calming potion and bring it here.”

“You is being nice to Harry Potter, isn’t you?”

There were two pops and Dobby was there again. “Here you is, Harry Potter’s friend.”

“Do either of you know how to spell a potion into someone’s stomach?” There was a pause. “Dobby, can you?” Another pause. Then I felt a tingle of magic and the retreating stopped.

“Thank you Dobby, very much appreciated.”

“Harry Potter’s friend says thank you to a house elf. Harry Potter’s friend Longbotty is as kind and honourable and wonderful as Harry Potter himself.”

My mind winced, because I knew what was coming next and I didn’t think I could cope right now with Dobby’s wails of gratitude. Fortunately Neville got in first and said, “that will be all, Dobby. If we need you any more we’ll call you.”

A single wail got out before the pop sounded that indicated he had gone.

I felt someone kneel down on the floor beside me. He gently took my hands in his and very slowly helped me uncurl them. I then heard Neville murmur and the little wounds I had made by digging my nails into my palms were healed.

“Come back to us, Harry,” he said quietly. “No one here is going to laugh at you.”

I slowly unfolded.

“Potter,” it was Malfoy’s voice, but there was no sneer. “We’re Ravenclaws now. We’re interested in information about everything, without any intention of using it for advantage.”

“But what advantage could we possibly get from seeing scars?” asked Justin in a puzzled voice.

Neville laughed in amazement, “you really don’t get it, do you? The Daily Prophet would pay good money for photos of Harry, particularly if they’re useful to show he’s unstable. You know what the Ministry is saying about Voldemort’s return.”

I heard Malfoy’s intake of breath at Voldemort’s name, but there wasn’t anything from Justin. That’s interesting, the rational part of my brain said.

“Then on top of that we’ve got the pink toad hanging around the school. She’s not going to make it easy for any of us, but she’s definitely got the knives out for Harry, it was obvious in that bloody speech she gave.”

“Potter,” it was Justin. “Will you please drop the glamour? We promise not to judge you in any way, no matter what we see.”

I looked up at him and Malfoy. They both nodded. I sighed and then dropped the glamour. There was a gasp, but it wasn’t from them. It was Neville.

“I remember some of those, but there are newer ones.”

“Let’s not think about that now,” cut in Malfoy. “I don’t think Potter’s going to cope with discussing them any further tonight. What do you think Finch-Fletchley? Can you do anything to help us get some muscle on?”

“Yes, I think we can do something for both of you. The three of you are going to need different programmes. Neville has a different body shape to you two. Malfoy, you’ve obviously been on a broom a lot over the summer with the way your abs are quite tight, but your shoulders are a bit rounded, so we need to do some balancing work with your upper back.” He then ran an appraising eye over me. “Potter, on the other hand has some good balance there. I suspect you’ve been doing some manual labour.”

I nodded numbly. Digging over Aunt Petunia’s garden several times over the summer would be that.

“But I think you’re under eating. I’ll owl my trainer and see if he can suggest a plan for you to help you get back on track.”

I nodded again. I mean it sounded all right, and he certainly didn’t seem to be judging me. Justin then peeled off his jockstrap, slung a towel over his shoulder, and strolled into the bathroom. After the door closed behind him, we looked at each other and realised we had all been openly staring at his assets. Malfoy opened his mouth to say something, then shook his head and grabbing a pair of pyjamas retreated behind his curtains.

“Thanks for your help there, Neville,” I said quietly, “Much appreciated.”

“I’m sorry that I hadn’t realised how bad it had got with your people. We’ve got to get you away from them, no matter what Dumbledore says.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t think he exactly cares about that. Anyway, bed I think. We got classes in the morning for sure.”

And I climbed onto my bed and pulled my curtains. I remembered to put up a silencing spell so that my nightmares wouldn’t disturb the others. Neville knew about them, but they had got a lot worse since Cedric’s death and the whole stupid graveyard thing.

I lay for a bit waiting to fall asleep, but afraid to do so. I found myself thinking about the other guys and wondering what the rest of them looked like. I’d only caught a glimpse of Justin and I knew I wanted to see more. It was simple curiosity, I told myself, nothing more.

“Kill the spare.” I was back in the graveyard and the green light of the killing curse sped past me only to hit a gravestone and light up its words. “In loving memory of Justin and Neville. Together in life and together in death.” Well, that was new. Then the light ricocheted across to where Cedric was standing and he crumpled to the ground as dead as he had been the first time. In the meantime Wormtail came towards me with his knife while I thrashed about in the ropes binding me to Riddle Senior’s gravestone.

“Harry, Harry,” it was Neville’s voice. But he was dead, I saw his gravestone.

“Potter! Wake up,” that was Malfoy’s voice. What was he doing here? Then I suddenly surfaced and opened my eyes to see three blurry faces looking down at me. The bed clothes were all tangled up and partly twisted around me. Neville passed me my glasses and I put them on.

“I’m sorry,” or at least that’s what I tried to say, but I could hear myself stammering and barely able to get anything out.

It was Justin who responded, “nightmare?” He continued after I nodded, “they can be hell, eh? This one must have been pretty bad. You broke through the silencing charm you put up, and it wasn’t a weak charm either.”

“Hmm,” that was Neville. “Voldemort’s return in the graveyard.” It wasn’t a question, but I nodded anyway ignoring the way Malfoy hissed in response to Neville saying the V word.

“Potter, when did you last sleep through the night?”

I managed to stammer out, “night before the leaving feast.” I could see the look on their faces change. “No, don’t pity me. I don’t think I can stand that. What time is it?”

“Half after two,” said Malfoy.

“You guys go back to bed. I’ll be alright.” They seemed to hesitate, but I insisted and they gave in. I cleared away the tattered remains of the charm and then closed my curtains before putting another one up. I tried to stay awake, but found myself drifting several times before I zoned out completely.

There was a flicker of light in front of me as I slithered around a corner. I could smell the fear mixed with annoyance in the one talking with my master. My eye caught some movement up on the wall above me. Huh, just one of those images that move on the walls. This one was blond and young. Didn’t smell of anything though, so not that interesting. I slid on and entered the area where my master was. I paused to taste the air. Ah, this one belongs here, it is his scent over many rooms.

“Careful of thissss one, masssterr, he pretendsss to be happy we are here, but he isss not. He smellsss of anger.”

“Good evening, Nagini. Have you hunted well? Ssso, he is angry. That iss of no matter. I am alwayss careful of him. I know he lies to me, but thiss place iss convenient for the pressent. He will not dare to attack me.”

I moved across to where my master was sitting and coiled at his feet.

“So, you are more than happy to host me in your manor? And your wife, is she also of the same mind? After all, though a man may own his house, it is his wife who really rules.”

“I assure you my lord that my wife is always glad to see you.”

“Legilimens. Drop your shields to me, your lord. Remember Lord Voldemort can always tell when his followers put up false thoughts and memories. Hmm, you haven’t even told your wife that I am here, let alone intending to live here for a while. Are you so scared of your wife’s reactions? Do not lie to me. Crucio!”

I initially watched dispassionately as the man writhed on the floor, but then his pain started to leak out and I too felt it and began to tremble. He lifted the curse and I sat bolt upright in bed. The only sound I could hear was my own harsh breath as I felt the pain of the crucio reduce.


	2. Classes begin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys have their first classes and Professor Flitwick has a surprising proposal for them.

Tuesday 3rd September

[End of last chapter: I initially watched dispassionately as the man writhed on the floor, but then his pain started to leak out and I too felt it and began to tremble. He lifted the curse and I sat bolt upright in bed. The only sound I could hear was my own harsh breath as I felt the pain of the crucio reduce.]

I grabbed my glasses, then did a tempus charm. It was 5:30. I was unlikely to sleep again, so I grabbed a towel and slipped quietly into the bathroom for a shower. I felt dirty after that dream.

When I came out of the shower Justin was at the urinal taking a leak. “I’m about to go for a run, want to join me?”

“Sure. I’ll just pull on some clothes.”

A few minutes later we were making our way down the castle to the front doors. I felt no pressure to talk, it was more of a companionable silence. If I’d been with Ron or Hermione I would have had to talk about last night or how my summer went.

As we got outside the sky was changing colour as the sun approached the horizon. It felt a long way from the darkness of my dreams. We jogged down towards the quidditch pitch, then once there Justin had us doing us short bursts of sprinting interspersed with gentle jogging. He called it HIIT but couldn’t remember the right words for what it stood for. We went round the pitch twice this way, then did a series of stretches before jogging back.

When we got back to our room the others were getting up. Malfoy definitely was not a morning person. He looked like he needed an infusion of caffeine. When he heard what we had just done he was horrified.

“Seriously? You willingly got up before dawn just to go and run around in a circle? Just what have I been let in for?”

Justin and I looked at each other and shrugged. “I’ve been getting up at that time all summer to run. It’s become a habit now.”

“And if I didn’t get up then there would be no breakfast,” I added.

“Your family wouldn’t let you have breakfast if you didn’t get up before six? Why couldn’t you just ask an elf?”

“Uh, my family are muggles. There’s no elf. It’s my job to cook breakfast.”

There was a pause while that sunk in.

“Cook breakfast?” That was Malfoy’s yell. “But you’re...”

“Not very important in the eyes of my relatives. Anyway, let’s go down for breakfast and see what Professor Flitwick has for us.”

And I left while shoving my charms textbook into my bag. Thank goodness for Hermione and her expansion charms. It meant I wouldn’t have to come back up to the tower after getting my timetable.

The others hastened to follow me, and we joined the general flow of students heading for the Great Hall. It was hard to remember to go to the Ravenclaw table instead of Gryffindor, but the four of us sat towards the middle along with a mixture of fourth and fifth years.

I grabbed a couple of slices of toast and an apple.

“Uh, Potter?” It was Justin. “Is that all you’re going to eat?” I looked at him and nodded. “If you’re going to train with us you need to eat more than that.”

“I don’t usually eat much for breakfast,” I started.

“But you said you had to get up and cook it,” said Malfoy.

“Yeah, for my family. Doesn’t mean I ate any of it.”

Malfoy’s eyes narrowed, then he got an I’m thinking really hard look on his face. His glance flicked up and over my shoulder at something then seemed to come to a resolution. He returned to his plate of sausages and eggs and the topic dropped in favour of a discussion about the third use of dragon’s blood. This was the Ravenclaw table, after all.

About ten minutes later Professor Flitwick came past. “Good morning, gentlemen. Let’s see... Ah, here are your timetables based on your electives from last year. I’d like to discuss things with the four of you later. I think you all have some free time immediately after your Charms class later this morning. So, please stay behind. You have Transfiguration first, though, so best be on your way. You how much Professor McGonagall likes to be kept waiting.” And he grinned while we all chuckled. Then he was off down the table chatting to the other Ravenclaws and handing out their timetables.

We got to our feet and headed off. Neville and Malfoy had to head back to our room to get their books for the morning, while Justin and I were able to head straight for the classroom.

“So, Potter…”

Damn, here it comes. He’ll want the details of my home life with the Dursleys.

“We definitely need to work on building your appetite back up. It can’t be done all at once, cause that will likely kill you. My guess is that your last decent meal was the Leaving Feast.”

He said it without judgement and there was no pity in his voice or face. This was so different to Ron and Hermione. I could get used to this.

“As well as owling my trainer, I’ll do some research into the best foods to get you started with. Would that house elf who came last night help out if what you need isn’t on the tables?”

“Dobby? Oh yes, he’d help. For some reason he thinks I’m wonderful. Don’t understand it myself.”

“The rumour is that you freed him from Malfoy’s father.”

“Ah, kind of.”

We reached the Transfiguration classroom with about five minutes to spare. Ron was already in there, so that told us we would be with Slytherin this year. I kind of hoped that this would be the only class shared with them. I definitely didn’t want to be in Potions with Parkinson and Goyle. Mind you, that was an interesting re-sort when Crabbe and Goyle got separated. Goyle stayed in Slytherin again while Crabbe went to Gryffindor. The two of them were almost in tears when they realised they’d been separated. Of course, without Malfoy there to supervise, it would have been difficult for them anyway.

The others filtered in, with Malfoy and Neville arriving together. Without discussing it the four of us sat together. It kind of felt like the right thing and the look on Ron’s face meant that all he wanted to do was complain. I wasn’t in the mood to listen to him today.

Professor McGonagall swept into the classroom, pointed her wand at the board and swept her eyes across the room. “Mr. Weasley, where might your housemates be?”

“I don’t know Professor. I think they had to go back to their rooms to pick up their books for the morning’s classes.”

“And how is it that you are here on time?”

He shrugged. “Lucky guess, I suppose.”

I grinned knowing better than that. Hermione had put an extension charm on his bag too.

Just then the Slytherins made their entrance, led by Parkinson.

“Very sorry Professor, there was some confusion over our timetables and we had the wrong books for the morning.” She darted a venomous glance at Ron who sat looking as innocent as he was able to.

Justin leaned over and whispered, “there’s the remains of a confundus charm on her timetable.”

Three of us grinned at each other and Malfoy struggled to keep a straight face.

Professor McGonagall swept her glance over us, pressed her lips together tightly, then began the lesson. “This is your OWL year. In this first week we will be revising what you’ve learnt over the past four years. Next week we will move on to the things you will need to know so that you can pass your exams. Note that I said ‘know’ and not ‘learn.’ You will need to know so deeply that your practical will be instinctive. Now, the first task in our revision is transfiguring matchsticks into needles. Yes, it was your very first lesson, but now after four years’ experience you should be able to do this task in such a way that no one in this room can tell that it was transfigured.”

I realised by that last statement she was including herself and Justin. Hmm, this was a challenge. I was thinking about how to do it, when Ron lifted his hand. “I think I’ve done it, Professor.”

His face looked smug, until Professor McGonagall looked at him and said, “ten points from Slytherin for lying, Mr Weasley, and detention tonight. You pulled that needle out of your clothing somewhere.”

The other Slytherins were glaring at Ron. I couldn’t believe he’d actually tried such a trick under her eagle eyes. I mean, we all knew not try such games in this classroom.

It then dawned on me how to do the task. Magic is about intent, so my intention needed to include that no magic could be seen. I flicked my wand at the matchstick in the prescribed manner and it changed into a needle. Before asking her to look at it, I turned to Justin with an enquiring look. He understood what I was asking and nodded. I then asked Professor McGonagall to look at it.

“Well done, Mr Potter. Anyone else?” And she moved around the class checking the various attempts. Most of them she rejected, saying that she could tell they had been transfigured.

“Alright, let’s pause. Mr. Potter, can you please explain what you did?”

“Magic is about intent, right? So, because there are at least two people in this room who can see or detect magic, I needed to modify my intent. That way the needle wouldn’t show that magic had been used.”

“Five points, Mr. Potter. That is an excellent exposition of one of the principles of Transfiguration. Now, have another try with that concept in mind.”

The rest of the Ravenclaws were quick to follow my suggestion and produced needles to Professor McGonagall’s satisfaction. Some of the Slytherins were also successful, with the main hold-outs being Parkinson, Ron and Nott.

“Now, one of the conditions for success was that no-one in this room can tell that it was transfigured. As Mr. Potter said, there is at least one person other than myself who can detect magic. That person does it in a different way to me, so the challenge is still on. To preserve their privacy, I’m going to invite five of you to inspect all the needles and then let me know which ones are truly successful.”

Justin was, of course, one of the five she chose. Goyle was a surprise choice, but then I suspected he had hidden some of his abilities to support his persona of brawn rather than brain. The other three were a Patil twin (I’ve never bothered to work out which one is which and they were both in the room), D’Ath Adams from Slytherin and Simone Thatcher from Ravenclaw.

They quickly went round the room looking at everyone’s needles, then reported to Professor McGonagall.

“Well, we have two people here who can tell when there is magic in use. They do it differently from each other, so to succeed in this challenge you needed to prevent detection in several ways. One of us can see magic, another can sense magical residues and the third can smell when magic has been used on an object or a person. There are only three needles here that got through the test. Five points each to Ms. Greengrass, Mx. Zabini, and Mr. Potter. By the way, Mr. Weasley, your initial needle is covered in magic. I suggest you get it assessed by your Head of House.

“Now, please write twelve inches on ways to prevent detection of magic on transfigured objects. Due when we meet again later in the week. Dismissed.”

Under the cover of packing up Justin whispered to us, “it’s a tracking charm on Weasley’s needle. The kind you put on small children’s clothes to make sure they don’t wander away or get into things they shouldn’t.”

“Mention of Charms, we should be on our way,” said Neville with a broad grin.

There was a hum of agreement and we headed across and down to Professor Flitwick’s classroom. Hermione and the other Hufflepuffs were just arriving from another direction when we got there. We all filed in and we four sat together again. Hermione looked disappointed that I didn’t sit with her, but I turned a blind eye to that. There would be time enough later to catch up with her. And it wasn’t like we hadn’t spent the whole train journey yesterday together.

“This year is your OWL’s year. We have quite a bit that we need to cover in this first section of the year. I would like to get through most of the new material by the time we break for the mid-winter holiday. Then we can spend the rest of the year working on making it all part of your innate knowledge rather than just things you have learnt to be able to pass the exam. To that end, we will be covering theory with a small amount of application at each lesson over the next few weeks. First though, some quick revision. What are the four components that make up any successful charm?”

A forest of hands rose across the room and a pleased grin graced Professor Flitwick’s face. He called on Malfoy who recited, “intent, word, action, result.”

“Excellent, and Ms. Hopkirk, what happens if intent and word are out of sequence?”

“An unintended result,” she said with a grin.

We all laughed, as that was Flitwick’s favourite phrase when teaching us new charms. It was the phrase for everything from Seamus setting his feather on fire to receiving a detention.

I raised my hand. “Yes, Mr Potter?”

“How does it work then with wordless charms?”

“An excellent segue, Mr. Potter, as that is where this lesson is heading. There are two main schools of thought in this area. The first is that if our intent is strong enough the need for “word” is taken away. The other is that “word” is still present in the cognitive process of determining to cast a particular charm. You will research these two schools of thought and write a twelve-inch essay that summarises the perspectives. There will be further essays on this topic, so at present don’t draw any conclusions. Now, let us use the remaining time to practice the various summoning charms we were working on at the end of last term. Remember, that most of you have _Accio_ working well, so it’s the other summoning charms I want you to improve on.”

At the end of the class Flitwick looked meaningfully at our group, then turned to answer one of Hermione’s many questions. We dawdled while packing up our books and chatted about the essays we’d been set. Hermione then rushed off to whatever class she had next.

“Now, gentlemen, I would like to discuss your optional courses with you. I have been given permission to start a new course in spell creation with a small group of fifth year students. If it goes well, then we’ll be looking to expand it in future years. However, it means that you would have to drop Care of Magical Creatures. The space in my timetable is a direct overlap with the periods you have that class.”

He then went on to explain what the course would have in it and how it would be assessed. He asked us to think about and get back to him by lunchtime the next day.

“Ah, Professor?”

“Yes, Mr. Finch-Fletchley?”

“On another matter, the four of us would like to use the gym together. We haven’t worked out a schedule yet, but I was hoping for three days a week.”

“Wonderful, wonderful. Yes, that sounds a splendid idea. Let me know the schedule you come up with and I’ll make sure it works. Now, you have Defence this afternoon. Please do and say nothing that will give Professor Umbridge cause to give a detention to any of you.”

With that warning in our ears we headed back to our dorm room. As we went, we talked about the new course. Justin and Malfoy were both keen. Neville wasn’t sure he was capable but was intrigued. I definitely wanted to do it, but I was worried that Hagrid would think I was abandoning him. At the same time the blast-ended skrewts had reduced a lot of my interest in the subject. The other problem was Hermione. How would she react to us being given this opportunity and not her?

“Hang on guys,” I said. “Why just us four? None of the other Ravenclaws, boys or girls. And no-one from another house. Doesn’t that seem odd?”

As what I was saying dawned on the others their faces showed various forms of puzzlement and the conversation went quiet.

We reached our room and Justin asked for our timetables so that he could work out when we had shared spaces for the gym.

“Don’t forget that Quidditch will be added to the schedule soon, as well. Malfoy and I are likely to both be playing.”

He waved his hand airily and said, “no problem. That will be evenings and Saturdays. Look, we can all do Mondays and Fridays at three and Wednesday at eleven. That’s assuming none of you are going to play Gobstones this year.”

Neville surprised us by snorting at that statement. “I’m sorry, but seriously? You can see any of us actually entering the Gobstones tournament?”

Malfoy grinned, then realised he was amused at something Neville said and caught himself. His face was quickly smoothed back into its customary sneer.

I flicked a glance at Justin and realised he’d been fishing for that reaction. “Are you sure the hat got it right this time? Shouldn’t you be in Slytherin?”

“Oh, I’m sure. My thirst for knowledge well outweighs the sly cunning. Anyway, tomorrow’s Wednesday, so let’s meet at five past eleven outside the gym. If you’ve not been before, I’ll need to show you how to get in.”

We all agreed, then sorting our books for Defence and History we headed down to the Great Hall for lunch. We sat together again and by the end of lunch Justin and Malfoy had persuaded Neville and me to drop Care and take the new course. We still hadn’t managed to work out why it was us four that Flitwick had chosen but decided that the opportunity was too good to miss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review, it's the only way I know if my story is worth continuing.


	3. The First DADA class

[End of last Chapter: We sat together again and by the end of lunch Justin and Malfoy had persuaded Neville and me to drop Care and take the new course. We still hadn’t managed to work out why it was us four that Flitwick had chosen but decided that the opportunity was too good to miss.]

I heaved a sigh. “Alright then, Defence. I’m not convinced this is going to be any good, particularly with that textbook. I fell asleep reading the Introduction.”

There were noises of agreement from the other fifth year students as we got up and headed for the classroom.

While we were waiting in the corridor for the room to be opened Hermione arrived. “Good, we’re with the Hufflepuffs for this,” I was saying when Ron and Pansy turned up with both the Patil twins not far behind.

“Neville, have we ever had a core class with all four houses at once?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No, I’ve not heard of it happening before.”

At that moment the door was opened and Umbridge was standing there. “Good afternoon, children. Please come in and take your assigned seats. Your names are on your desks.”

Several sets of eyebrows shot up as we looked at each other while filing in. Our seats had been assigned in alphabetical order in rows across the room, starting with Abbot, Hannah at the front left and finishing with Zabini, Blaine at the back right.

“There, isn’t this so much easier? I don’t need to take the roll because I can instantly see who is missing. Also, mixing you up like this will just make us all feel like one happy family. Now, good afternoon children.”

There were some muttered responses scattered throughout the room.

“Oh, my goodness me, this won’t do. When I greet you, I expect you all to greet me back. Now let’s try again. Good afternoon class.”

“Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge,” we dutifully chorused back. I steadfastly didn’t look at anyone. Flitwick’s warning earlier was in the forefront of my mind, but I knew we’d be talking about this later.

“Wands away and quills out, please.” We all gloomily put our wands back in our bags and pulled out our writing implements.

She tapped the blackboard with her wand and it filled with words.

_Defence Against the Dark Arts_

_A Return to Basic Principles_

“Now, your previous teaching in this subject has been all over the place, hasn’t it? And because none of your teachers so far have used a Ministry approved curriculum, you are a long way behind on where you need to be to even have a vague hope of passing your OWL in this subject.

“However, I am here to ensure that you will be able to catch-up on all the many pieces of information that you have missed. Copy down the following, please.”

She gave the blackboard a smart tap with her wand (I wondered what Moody would make of treating a wand like that) and it erased itself and filled anew.

_Course Aims_

  1. Understand the principles underlying defensive magic
  2. Learn to recognise situations in which defensive magic can legally be used
  3. Place the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use

We dutifully wrote down the three course aims and awaited further instructions.

“Now, turn to page five of Mr. Slinkhard’s excellent book _Defensive Magical Theory_ and read Chapter One: Basics for Beginners. There will be no need to talk.”

She took her seat on the chair behind the desk and watched everyone settle to the task. It really was as badly written as the Introduction had foreshadowed and I found myself struggling to take in the contents of even one sentence.

A shuffling sound caught my attention and I looked up to find that Hermione staring fixedly at Professor Umbridge with her hand in the air. She hadn’t even opened her textbook. I wasn’t the only one looking at her, but Professor Umbridge appeared to have not noticed her silent attempt to gain her attention.

By now everyone in the classroom except those in the front row immediately in front of her were staring at Hermione.

Professor Umbridge pushed herself to her feet and walked quietly over to where Hermione was sitting.

“Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?” she asked in whisper.

“Not about the chapter, no.”

“Well,” she smiled showing all of her teeth, “we’re reading just now, so you do that and we’ll have time for questions at the end.”

“I’ve got a question about your course aims.”

“My course aims? But Miss Granger, I think that if you read them through carefully you will find them to be perfectly clear.”

“Well, I don’t” was the blunt reply. “There’s nothing up there about using defensive magic.”

A trilled laugh came in response. “_Using_ defensive magic? Are you expecting to be attacked in my classroom?”

“We’re not going to use magic?” Ron exclaimed loudly.

“Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class, Mr. Weasley.” She turned her back on him when thrust his hand into the air.

Hermione’s hand went up again.

“Yes, Miss Granger? Another question?”

“Surely, the point of the Defence Against the Dark Arts class is to practice defensive spells in preparation for having to do so in the real world?”

“So, Miss Granger, you are an educational expert. No? Wiser and cleverer wizards and witches than you have carefully devised our new programme of study. You will be learning about defensive magic in a secure, risk-free way.”

She looked over my shoulder at the back row. “Yes, Mr. Zabini?”

There was a collective gasp across the room. Everyone in the school knew that Zabini was non-binary and using ‘mister’ to address xem was plain rude. She would have been told and she had just lost the respect of anyone in the room who had been in Slytherin with xem across the four years so far, and a fair number of the others in the room. Xe had come out during the early part of first year.

“I’ve changed my mind about asking, Professor,” was xyr only response.

“Now, it is the view of the Ministry that a theoretical knowledge will be more than enough to get you through your examination, which, after all, is what school is all about.”

Out of the corner of my eye I could see one of the Patil twins put her hand up.

Professor Umbridge turned to her and spoke clearly and loudly. “Yes, dear, do you have a question?”

“Don’t we have a practical part of the exam for the Dark Arts OWL? Aren’t we supposed to show that we can actually do the counter-curses?”

Umbridge continue to speak slowly to her, carefully enunciating every word. “As long as you have studied the theory—from this book—very hard, you will be able to perform the spells in the exam room.”

I suddenly realised what she was doing. This was racism, loud and clear. The only respect she had left from this class was for her position.

I could see Dean’s hand go down. There was no way he was going to let the bint treat him like that.

Seamus was the only one with his hand still in the air and she called on him.

“What good will the theory be in the real world? Are we not supposed to be prepared for what’s waiting out there for us?”

“And what do you think is out there? Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourselves?” she asked in a horribly honeyed voice.

“Oh, I don’t know … Let me see … Oh, yes _Lord Voldemort_.”

There were flinches and gasps all over the room. Professor Umbridge, however, remained exactly the same.

“Ten points from Ravenclaw.”

“But I’m not in Ravenclaw,” said Seamus looking confused.

I knew she was trying to goad me into saying something, anything that would give her an excuse to attack me. I wasn’t going to give her the pleasure, so I just shifted in my seat.

“Did you say something, Mr. Potter?”

“No, Professor.”

There was no way she was going to get me involved in this discussion.

“But Harry told us that He who must not be named was back.” It was Seamus.

“Mr. Potter. Is there anything you wish to say to the class?”

“No Professor, I can’t think of anything other than to ask if we might continue with today’s lesson. After all, we are here to learn.”

Her eyes narrowed and I wondered what she was thinking, then I realised that I was very happy that I couldn’t read her mind. It probably wasn’t possible anyway, even with magic.

“Detention, Mr. Finnegan.”

He was two rows in front of me, so I couldn’t see his face, but I guessed that he had opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it.

“Now, despite what you may have heard, there is no credible evidence that the Dark Lord has returned. You will be guided by me and the Ministry. No matter who else tells you, if they say something different, then they are lying. Do you agree, Mr. Potter?”

I seethed internally but decided that I wasn’t going to play her game. I lifted my eyes from my book again and blinked at her. “I’m sorry Professor, but I missed your question as I was focused on reading about the importance of stance when casting a shield. I don’t think I’ve fully understood the nuances of the difference between the 45-degree and the 60-degree position. Would it be possible for you to explain it to us?”

She looked startled for a moment, then seemed to shake herself. “You will find that this is explained fully in a later chapter.” She took a deep breath. “Alright then, children,” the sweet voice was back. “Continue reading.”

No one dared try anything else and we continued to the end of the class in silence.

History of Magic was next and as we made our way there Malfoy was whispering to us urgently. “Did you hear what she called He who must not be named? She called him the Dark Lord.”

Our non-comprehension must have shown on our faces.

“Oh, for goodness sake, that’s a title that only Death Eaters use. Everyone else uses some version of He who must not be named, or in Potter’s case his name. But no one calls him Lord, except his followers. Finnegan needs to be really careful. He’s back in Gryffindor, right?”

“Yeah, last year in Hufflepuff didn’t do a lot for him,” said Neville.

I decided to throw some information into the pool, “Umm, you do know that Voldemort isn’t his real name, don’t you?” Malfoy looked startled. “Yeah, it’s a name he made up from the letters of his actual name. Tom Marvolo Riddle.”

“Riddle? But that means he’s ...”

“Yep, he’s a half-blood.”

There wasn’t time for more conversation as we’d reached the History classroom. We filed in and took our seats, Ravenclaw to the left and Hufflepuff to the right. Binns was still the teacher and we settled in to prepare for another sleep-inducing lecture on the Goblin Wars. Malfoy manipulated things so that he ended up sitting beside me. Instead of focusing on Binns he started writing on some scrap parchment.

“Explain!”

I wrote ‘Tom Marvolo Riddle’ on one line and then ‘I am Lord Voldemort’ on the next and pushed the parchment back to him. He studied it for a while, then wrote “half-blood?”

“Witch used love charms to manipulate a muggle into marriage. When he found out, he rejected her and the baby.”

“Tell me more later, alright?”

I nodded, then we turned our attention back to Grobwitt and his three wives. Apparently the miscarriage of justice caused their youngest child to elope with a gnome, which caused the second war with the wizards—or something like that. Paying attention in History was never easy.

At the end of the class, Malfoy left in a hurry. “I need to go and talk to someone. I’ll see you either at dinner or in our room.”

We looked at each other, then shrugged and headed back to our room to sort out our stuff so that we could get started on our essays for Flitwick and McGonagall.

“By the way, Harry, well done for defusing Umbridge this afternoon. But you’re going to have to be really careful. She’s got it in for you and is going to try and get you some way,” said Neville.

“I know she is, but I’m going hold out for as long as I can. You know, we’re the only year group that she’s teaching in a single class?”

“Really?” That was Justin. “What’s going on there?”

“Well, she was at my trial in the summer.”

“Trial?”

“Yeah, underage magic in front of muggles,” I said casually.

“Harry!” shouted Neville. “What on earth?”

“Someone sent a dementor at me while my cousin and I were out at the park. I had to use a patronus to get rid of it.”

“And they took you to court for that?”

I shrugged, “yeah, but Dumbledore turned up and persuaded the Wizengamot that it was self-defence. Fudge and Umbridge didn’t like it, but wasn’t much they could do. They even changed the time of the trial at the last moment to try and keep him away.”

“Hold on, Potter.” Malfoy had come in while I was talking. “You were taken before the full Wizengamot for using a patronus in front of a relative who already knew you’re a magic user?”

“Yeah,” I said hesitantly. Then I saw him and Neville look at each other meaningfully. “What?”

“That’s just so wrong on so many levels that I don’t think I could begin to explain.”

Neville then chipped in, “Yeah, you shouldn’t even have been in front of a court, let alone the Wizengamot. You didn’t break the Statute of Secrecy because your cousin already knew you’re a wizard. Underage magic is dealt with by a department at the ministry who would have known that it was self-defence.”

“And,” said Malfoy, “Wizengamot trials are reserved for major crimes like Sirius Black’s murders.”

“Except that Sirius didn’t have a trial. And didn’t commit those crimes.”

“What do you mean, he didn’t have a trial?” asked Malfoy.

“Crouch packed him off to Azkaban within an hour of his arrest in collusion with Fudge. But, look guys, while Fudge is Minister and the pink toad is in place, there’s nothing that can be done. Please don’t make things harder than they already are.”

“Who was Mugwump at the time, Longbottom?”

“Dumbledore was elected at the beginning of the first war with He who shall not be named, and no one has challenged him since.”

“Figures. Potter, do you have proof that Black is innocent?”

“Yes, I can provide memories of Pettigrew confessing to the crimes.”

“Pettigrew? But he’s dead.”

“Unfortunately not. He betrayed my parents to Voldemort, killed those muggles, lived as an unregistered animagus rat for 12 years, and was instrumental in resurrecting Voldemort a few months ago.”

“Details!” ordered Malfoy.

So, I explained as best I could. Then pleaded with them again, “please don’t push anything outside of here. The Ministry will know that I’ve told you these things and she’ll just make life unbearable for me here. It’s going to difficult enough to keep her off my back as it is.” There was no need to explain who “she” was.

At the end of dinner that evening we got Flitwick’s attention and told him we’d decided to go ahead with the new course. He was delighted. “Have you got your timetables with you?” Only Justin did, but Flitwick said that it wouldn’t be a problem and tapped Justin’s with his wand. “Now, when you get back to your room, bring your timetables close to Mr. Finch-Fletchley’s and yours will update. That way the master set I and the Headmaster have will be updated as well. Off you go.”

A couple of hours later I decided to turn in for an early night. Malfoy came over carrying a vial and handed it to me, “do yourself a favour, Potter, and drink this so that you can get a good night’s sleep.”

I recognised it immediately as Dreamless Sleep. “Where did you get this?”

“I asked Snape for it. That’s where I went after History this afternoon.”

“And he just gave it to you? Why?”

“Well, despite the impression he gives, my godfather does actually care about all of his students. I told him you hadn’t slept properly for a while and he happily handed over a vial.”

I was having problems computing Malfoy’s words and resorted to simply staring at him.

“Potter?” Malfoy’s voice broke through my daze.

“Snape is your godfather?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “That’s why I don’t dare to do badly in Potions. Can you imagine the reaction?”

I laughed, “yeah, I think I can. Something as mild as dunderhead would be unlikely.”

Malfoy grinned back, then caught himself before carefully moving his face back to its customary sneer. “So, Potter, are you going to accept this offer?”

“With gratitude. Good night all.”

There was a chorus of responses and I climbed into bed and pulled the curtains. I got myself settled, then put up the silencing charm and swigged down the potion. It tasted as horrible as ever, but it was kind of worth it, if I would get a good sleep without nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To help me keep the boys' classes straight, this is their timetable.
> 
> Monday: Herbology (2), Gym, Lunch, Spell Creation (2), Ancient Runes (2)  
Tuesday: Transfiguration (2), Charms (2), Lunch, Defence (2), History (2)  
Wednesday: Divination/Arithmancy (2), Gym, Lunch, Potions (2), Free with Astronomy in the evening  
Thursday: Transfiguration (1), Spell Creation (2), Lunch, Herbology (2), History (1), Runes study group  
Friday: Potions (1), Defence (1), Charms (2), Lunch, Divination/Arithmancy (2), Gym


	4. Divination and a Gym Session

**Wednesday 4 September**

When I woke, I was startled to find that I had slept for 9 hours. It was still 6:30, but even so I felt a lot better than I had for months. I poked my head out of the curtains and saw that Justin had already left for his run. I decided it didn’t matter as I would be exercising later anyway in our first gym session. But I had Divination first. As I got up and had a shower, I wondered how many ways Trelawney would predict my death this week.

As I came out of the bathroom Justin came back. He was wearing a tight singlet that showed off his muscles. When he caught me staring, he just grinned and shrugged like he didn’t mind the attention.

I sat at my desk to write a letter to Sirius and Remus while the others got themselves ready for the day. As we headed down to breakfast, I said to them, “I need to go to the owlery on my way to class to send a letter off.”

Malfoy looked at me strangely. “Ah Potter, why would you do that? Just give it to your owl at breakfast.”

“But if I’ve got no mail, Hedwig won’t come in. I often don’t see her for several days.”

“Seriously, Potter? She’s your familiar. She knows when you need her. It’s only when you’re somewhere that she can’t get to, like the dungeons that you’ll need to go to her.”

“How come no one tells us these things? Where is the course on how to live in the magical world for those of us who grew up in the mundane world?”

“You know, Potter, that’s a damn good question,” chimed in Justin. “I have the same problems, and Granger obviously does. No matter many books you read, you can’t know the things that you and Longbottom just automatically know.”

Neville spoke up, “yeah, maybe it would have stopped SPEW from becoming such an issue.”

I caught Neville’s eye and we both grinned, then said in a whiny voice, “it’s not spew, it’s SPEW.”

“What on earth are you two on about?” asked Malfoy.

“It’s Hermione’s social conscience group. Stands for Society for Promotion of Elvish Welfare. Kind of came out of the way your father treated Dobby. She really wasn’t happy when she discovered that Sirius has Kreacher at his place.”

“Yeah, but do you remember when she discovered that Hogwarts is run by House Elves?” reminisced Neville.

“Yeah, the Gryffindor common room wasn’t cleaned for weeks because of her. Anyway, if she really understood the symbiotic relationship between house elves and wizards or witches, then she wouldn’t be seeing them as an oppressed underclass.”

Just then the post owls arrived along with Hedwig. I gave her a piece of bacon and my letter to Sirius and Remus. Shortly after we headed off to our first classes. Neville and I had Divination, while Malfoy and Justin went off to Arithmancy. “See you at Basil’s statue after,” Justin reminded us.

As expected, Trelawney managed to predict my death twice during the class. Once by cards, and the other by automatic writing. It was comforting in a way to know that some things didn’t change. It was also nice to know that apparently no one else was going to die. When we escaped down the ladder, Neville and I headed across the school and took a couple of secret passages to arrive at the appointed place at the same time as Justin and Malfoy who came from the other direction.

Justin took out his wand and drew an arc from one side of the corridor to the other, then tapped his wand against Basil the Bastard’s visor then a brick glowed a little on the other wall. He brushed the side of his right thumb against the glowing brick, then pushed the left edge so that it swivelled. The wall then dissolved to reveal an archway that led to two doors. Justin led us to the one marked “Wizards,” and we went into a changing room that had lockers and benches down one side and a row of showers on the other. There were hand basins on the wall beside the door we’d come in. We quickly changed into shorts and t-shirts and stuffed our gear into lockers. When we closed the lockers, a pad appeared on the front. “Put your thumb on the pad,” instructed Justin. When I did, I could hear a lock fall into place and my name then showed briefly across the front of the locker.

We followed Justin through another door and came into a large space full of all sorts of equipment. It was definitely a wizarding space, there was no way all of this could fit in the physical space. There was enough equipment here for several hundred people all at once. Also, the two windows that were side by side on the far wall looked out in completely different directions.

Neville whistled, “phew, there’s a lot of stuff in here. How do you know what to do?”

“That’s easy, we set up a plan for each of you and you never do more than a few exercises in any one session. Actually, there’s equipment in here that I’ve never used. Now, we’ll start by warming up and then we’ll test everyone’s strength so that we can work out where to start.”

“So, we’ll do some stretching first?” I asked.

“Sort of, but not static stretches. Warming up needs to be active.” As he said this, he led us across to an open area that was carpeted. “Now, do ten burpees, then ten jumping jacks.”

“Burpees? What are you talking about?” It was Malfoy.

“I’ll show you,” I offered and then did a couple. “And this is a jumping jack.”

“I don’t think I’ll manage ten of either of those,” said Neville, “but I’ll have a go.”

So we set to. Justin was first finished with me not long behind. I moved over beside Neville to encourage him through, while Justin did the same for Malfoy.

Once they were done, we went over to a bar set at about six and a half feet off the ground. “Jump up and grab the bar with both hands and hang from it. Now pull yourself up so that your chest touches the bar, then let yourself down again.” We all managed that. “Okay, see how many times you can repeat it.”

Neville managed two more, while Malfoy and I got four. Justin carried on to ten. “All of you, that’s really good for a first go. We’ll work on getting the count up over the next few months. Now, how much can you carry?”

We went over to a rack that had lots of dumbbells on it. “Each of you grab a pair of 10 kg weights and hold them at your sides while standing tall. Now walk in a circle to take about 20 steps.”

We did that, but it was too easy. Justin then got us to do the same with 15, 20, and 25, which is when Neville and Malfoy had to stop. Justin managed a pair of 35 kg dumbbells before he gave up. I knew I could manage more because of all the bags of compost I’d carried around Aunt Petunia’s garden. I got up to 50 kg in each hand, but only got part way round the circle before I had to drop them.

“Okay, the weight you got to is your starting weight next time and we’ll work up to 50 steps before adding more weight.”

“But what does it do?”

“It helps build up your forearms and gets your posture into neutral. The chin-ups work the trapezius muscles and also involve the upper arms. Now, let’s look at the bench press. Longbottom and Malfoy, you start while Potter and I will spot you, then we’ll swap.”

To his surprise Neville turned out to be the strongest on that. He was also the best at squats too. Justin then had us finish with standing in front of a weight stack that had a cable attached. We had to grab a bar above our heads and pull it down so that our elbows were tucked into the sides, then press it down. Justin set it up with only 25 kg, but we had to do as many as we could without losing form. We were all pretty even with that and got between 15 and 20 reps.

“Okay, is anyone sore anywhere?”

He took us over to another open area and pulled out some thick rolls of what he called foam. They were pretty solid, so didn’t seem like foam to me. He showed us how to use them on our thighs and said, “I promise, you’ll thank me for this tomorrow.”

Then we went back into the changing area. “Right, cleaning spells and deodorant charms are only for emergencies. We’re normal teenage males and we stink after doing that. A shower is compulsory, even if it’s just being nice to those we have to sit with later.”

“But, Finch-Fletchley, there are no shower curtains. How are we supposed to be private?”

“Magic.” And he grabbed a towel from a pile on the benches, stripped off his shirt and shorts and walked towards a shower head. When he got under it, a screen appeared around him and the water started flowing. We looked at each other and shrugged before copying his actions. The screen around me not only gave privacy, but it also provided shower gel in several different scents. Once I’d chosen one, the dispensers vanished and jets of water came from multiple directions. I looked up and caught Neville’s eye. He grinned and gave me a thumbs up. Once we were done everything shut off and the screens retreated leaving us to dry off and get dressed.

“I could get used to that,” I said to the others. There were hums of agreement as we pulled our bags from the lockers and headed out for lunch.


	5. Potions, Astronomy and More Revelations

**Wednesday afternoon**

When we got to the Great Hall, I saw Hermione sitting at the Gryffindor table with Ron, Ginny and Seamus. Ron flicked a glance up at me with the particular look he got when he wanted to tell me something. I excused myself from the others and sat down beside him.

“What’s going on?”

“It’s what she’s done to Seamus. Show Harry your hand.”

Seamus lifted his left hand up. It was an angry red in an odd pattern.

“How did that happen?” I asked.

“I had to write lines with a special quill that used my blood. She made me write for more than five hours and I could see the words on my hand.”

“What were they?”

“I must not repeat Potter’s lies.”

“Back in a moment,” I said before getting up and going over to Malfoy. “Malfoy, I need your advice and experience.”

He looked startled for a moment, then nodded.

“Seamus had to write lines last night with a quill that uses the writer’s own blood. His hand is pretty screwed up.”

“A blood quill? But they’re only legally used for signing formal contracts.”

“I thought so but wanted to check. He had to use one for over five hours consecutively.”

His eyes widened at that, then he pushed his plate aside and grabbed a few pieces of fruit. “I’ll see you guys in Potions.” And he left in a hurry.

I went back over to where Seamus and the others were sitting and explained briefly what Malfoy had said about it being illegal to use a blood quill outside signing contracts. We finished our lunch, then Seamus joined me and a couple of other Gryffindors in heading to Potions, while Ron and Hermione headed to Herbology.

We got down to the Potions classroom about five minutes early, but the door was open already, so we headed in.

“Mr. Finnegan, come over here please,” barked Snape. “Show me your hand.” Snape’s face took on a look that I didn’t recall ever seeing before. “What was the phrase that she made you write?” The amount of venom that he put into the word ‘she’ made sure that we were in no doubt of his opinion of her.

“I must not repeat Potter’s lies.”

“Hmpff,” he grunted. “Go to your tables every one of you. Not you, Finnegan, your hand is no state to brew today. Sit there.” And he pointed at a chair beside his desk, then proceeded to give us an opening lecture that covered similar ground to that of our previous first classes. While he was doing that, he poured the contents of a vial into a small bowl that he’d pulled out of a cupboard.

“Some of you will not return to this classroom after this year as your OWL scores will not be good enough. Put your hand completely into that, Finnegan. However, we do have this year together in which you have a last opportunity to prove that you are not dunderheads. No, Finnegan, all of your hand needs to be under the murtlap essence. Now, I was going to ask you to prepare the Draught of Living Death today. However, in the light of what has happened to Mr. Finnegan you will instead explain in more detail than I have yet heard what occurred that led to this barbaric treatment of one of my students.”

And he proceeded to lead a discussion that fully rehashed the discussion in Defence the previous afternoon. He was careful to listen without judgment

This was a side of Snape that most of us had not yet seen. As the discussion progressed, I could see his face become more set. Anyone who didn’t know him well would not have noticed any change but having had to look at him through multiple lessons and detentions over four years I had come to know his expressions pretty well. By the end of it he was angry. I mean really angry. I then realised that what I had thought was Snape’s anger in the past was just him being a little annoyed.

I wasn’t sure whether it was the blatant racism, her treatment of Zabini, or the blood quill, but he was more than pissed off.

“I will be discussing this with the Headmaster. In the meantime, you will all research the properties of murtlap. Eighteen inches on the subject due in a week’s time when we meet at this lesson. We have ten minutes left of this class, so read up on the Draught of Living Death in preparation for brewing it in your next class. Mr. Finnegan, show me your hand again. Hmm, you need another half hour of full immersion. What’s your next class?”

“I’ve got a free period now, sir, because it’s Astronomy this evening.”

“Very well, you can remain sitting there. The third year Gryffindors and Slytherins will leave you alone. Before the rest of you leave, please let me know of anyone else you hear of who has been given a detention with Professor Umbridge. Now, off you go. Mr. Thomas you may return in thirty-five minutes to collect your friend and assist him back to your dormitory.”

Like Gryffindor we had a free period because of Astronomy in the evening.

“I need to go down and see Hagrid to let him know about dropping Care,” I said.

“Can’t you let him know at dinner?” asked Neville. “Also, I think he’s teaching right now.” He indicated out the window in the direction of the Forbidden Forest. When I looked, I could see him leading a group of students towards the Hippogriff paddock.

“Oh, well, suppose I should get started on Snape’s essay. Wonder if he’ll give the same one to the others. Seamus is unlikely to be the only one who needs to use Murtlap after she’s had a go at them.”

“Don’t worry so much, Potter, Professor Snape will find any others and sort it.”

“You know, I think we’re discovering a side to him that we didn’t know about. I mean, he’s always so tough in the classroom and when people breaking curfew get caught by him,” said Justin.

“Still not going to make him my favourite teacher,” said Neville with a grin. “And I doubt I’ll be carrying on with Potions after this year. I mean, can you really see me getting an O, even if he wasn’t in the same room?”

“Maybe not on the practical, but you can do well on the theory side,” I pointed out. “After all you know the plant stuff pretty well.”

Malfoy then got a look on his face that suggested he was going to say something awkward. “Look, we’ve each got a subject that we’re really good at. Potter has Defence, Longbottom Herbology, Finch-Fletchley Transfiguration, and me with Potions. So, why don’t we use this period each week for tutoring each other in our best subjects?”

Neville and looked at each other and shrugged. “Sure,” I said, “I can see the advantage in that for each of us.”

“Yeah, and History is up to our own research,” threw in Neville. “As for Charms, we’re about equal.”

“And we’re seeing Flitwick for extra classes anyway,” I said. “What do you reckon, Justin?”

“Hey, I’m keen for any help I can get in Herbology. I’m more than happy to trade some Transfiguration help for that.”

“So, we got 30 minutes left now, can we look at some Transfiguration now?” asked Malfoy.

“Sure,” said Justin. “Where do you want to start?”

“Intent,” was the immediate response. “Obviously, there has to be intent to achieve a successful change, but equally obvious is that it’s not enough in itself. Otherwise we would have achieved NEWT level in our first year.”

“Okay, but remember that I have the advantage of being able to see magic and therefore I can adjust and tweak things as I go. Yes, the intent is needed, but there’s also the series of mental images that have to be there.”

“Series?” asked Neville.

“Oh, you mean the intermediate states as well as the final?” I said.

“Exactly.”

Malfoy was scribbling some notes on a piece of parchment, then looked up and asked, “how many are needed in the series?”

Justin raised an eyebrow, then said, “think about a couple of examples. Matchstick to needle, and cushion to armchair.”

Malfoy and I started talking at the same time, then stopped and made a show of letting the other go first. While we were doing that Neville piped up, “the more similar they are, the fewer the steps between?”

“That’s not the words I was going to use, but it’s what I was going to say,” said Malfoy.

“So that’s why we start with matchsticks,” I mused out loud. “But how do you speed up a long series of intermediate images? I mean, when McGonagall transfigured her desk into a pig it seemed to happen instantly.”

“Seemed,” said Justin. “But not really. It appeared that way because we were new to the concept and everything seemed miraculous. It actually took about five seconds in each direction.”

Neville then said, “I think there’s also an element of practice in there too. The more often you do a transfiguration, the easier it gets.”

“Exactly, and the series of images becomes more automatic. When you get a Mastery in Transfiguration, you’re able to skip some of the series, but there always has to be at least one in between.”

“But what happens if the two are so similar that there isn’t anything in between?” I asked.

“Give an example,” challenged Justin.

“Well,” I thought carefully. “What if I needed a longer matchstick? You know, there’s the standard small size that’s fine for lighting just one or two candles. But your fingers get burnt if you try to light more. But if the match was longer ...”

“Sure. But think about it. If the match was simply longer, it would break when you struck it because it’s too thin for its length. It needs to get thicker as well. You also need to have a bigger phosphorus head on it too.”

I could see that Neville and Malfoy were looking bemused by our discussion and realised what they were thinking. “Just go with it as an example, eh? I know all of us would just use a charm to light candles normally, but if you do that in front of muggles you’d break the Statute.”

“And growing your matches wouldn’t?” threw back Malfoy.

“Maybe not. As long as you strike the match in the normal way, they probably wouldn’t notice that you’d managed to light half a dozen or more candles from an ordinary match.”

“Anyway, we’ve gone off topic,” said Julian. “Does all of this help you guys?”

“Oh yes,” said Neville. “All I’ve got to do now is work out how to combine this with hiding the magic, like we were trying to do yesterday.”

“That’s the next bit. Harry, do you think you could have a go at explaining what you were talking about yesterday in light of what we’ve just talked about?”

I thought carefully, then started, “it’s still about intent, but the intent is not just to change the object, that’s only the surface. Oh, I’ve got it! It’s the same kind of concept as the intermediate images.”

Justin just grinned, while the others groaned.

“Oh, very clear Potter,” snarked Malfoy.

“No, think about it. There are multiple layers of images that are needed to move from one object to another. In the same way there are multiple structural layers needed to do the change. If all we do is change the surface appearance, we haven’t really transfigured the object. To do that we need to add all the underlying bits.”

“Keep going,” encouraged Justin.

“Hiding the magic used is like dealing with the structural layers,” I continued uncertainly. “So, when it’s completed the new object should be totally itself without any indication that it was anything else previously. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, but I’m not sure how to apply that,” said Neville. “I mean, I have enough trouble with the surface appearance. My snuff box at the end of last year looked alright, but I couldn’t open it.”

Just then a bell sounded throughout the castle. I cast a Tempus. “Half an hour until dinner. Going to have a quick shower.” I grabbed a towel and headed for the bathroom.

The others also used the bathroom, then we all grabbed our astronomy gear and headed down to the Great Hall. As we went, I remembered the odd dream I’d had the previous morning.

“Malfoy?” He looked up enquiringly. “Is there a corridor in your house that has a thirty-degree bend about a third of the way along? With a photo of you on the outside wall of the bend?”

He looked puzzled at me. “Yes, but how ever could you know that?”

“I dreamt about it yesterday morning, but I forgot until now because of going for a run when I woke up.”

“You dreamt about a corridor in my house? That’s just weird. However, I presume that there’s more to this dream.”

“Yes, but I don’t think here is the right place. Too many listening ears.”

We’d reached the Great Hall and, looking around, there were several people pretending not to listen to us.

“Hmm, alright. But don’t think I’ll forget.”

“Of course not. Oh good, here’s Dumbledore, we can eat in a moment.” Then I realised what I’d just said. “That’s strange. I’m not usually hungry, and certainly not this early in the term.”

“It’s just a result of the workout this morning,” reassured Justin. “Your body is telling you that it needs more food to help it cope with the increased level of activity.”

And we were away and talking about something Justin called macros and what the right balance would be depending on your body type.

“So, I shouldn’t eat much fat, right?” asked Neville. “Otherwise, I’d be fat like ...” He broke off as Professor Umbridge passed behind us.

“No, it doesn’t work that way. Sure, if Potter and you were the same weight, you’d eat less fat than him. But our bodies can store any food as fat. It’s just a little easier to do that when the food source is fat.”

Neville and I looked at each other and grinned at the thought of being the same weight.

“Oh, with the way I’m going to work you both, you’ll come close to being the same weight.”

“Sounds like a threat to me,” said Malfoy.

“Absolutely. And you and me will be up there with them.”

Malfoy looked horrified. “That would put up me up near Crabbe and Goyle.”

Justin laughed. “Only if they go on a weight loss programme. Look, we’re focusing on adding lean mass. That’s increasing muscle, not just size or weight for the sake of it.”

“So, we’re not aiming to get heavier?”

“Nah. Look, we’ve all still got some height to gain yet. So, we’re going to get heavier anyway. What we want to do is to gain that weight without putting on fat. In the end we want the same things, eh?”

“Like ...?”

“Arms, chest, abs that all look good with or without clothes on. And we want to be physically strong to go with the mental strength we’ve all got.”

Just then a couple of brown owls dropped in beside us. One was for Justin, the other for me.

“Oh good, that’s my instructor’s handwriting. That’ll be his answers to my questions. I’ll read it later.”

My heart sank when I saw the loopy handwriting of the Headmaster. “What’s the old coot want now?” I muttered.

> “Dear Harry,  
I wonder if I might have a brief word with you in my office after dinner. You’ll still have time to get to Astronomy.  
Best wishes,  
A. Dumbledore   
P.S. I’m rather fond of Sour Worms at the moment.”

I looked up at the head table. He was just leaving through the staff only door at the back of the dais.

“Oh well, I’d better go and find out what he wants to spring on me this year. I’ll see you at Astronomy.”

I made my way out of the double doors into the Foyer and headed for the Headmaster’s Tower. The gargoyle stared unblinkingly at me and I felt like I was facing my doom.

“Sour worms,” I muttered, and it seemed to take on a sardonic leer as it moved aside. I wasn’t sure if it was just a trick of the light or if I had actually seen it. I shrugged and started onto the revolving staircase.

“Come in Harry,” came Dumbledore’s voice as I reached the door of his office. I took a deep breath and sauntered in. “You’re looking well Harry.”

I dipped my head but said nothing. I’d decided to give away as little as possible.

“Harry, tell me what you know about Occlumency and Legilimency.”

My face must have shown my noncomprehension, as a third person made their voice heard. “Oh, for goodness sake, Albus. How could you possibly expect Potter to know anything so subtle as the Mind Arts?”

Snape, of course, in full-blown sneering mode. Yet I could detect an undercurrent of something else. I quickly decided to act as usual and appeared to bristle.

“Potter, a Legilimens can look into an undefended mind, while Occlumency is the art of blocking it.”

“So, it’s sort of like mind reading, but images rather than words?”

“Yes, Harry.”

“Hmm. I doubt you want me to learn to see into other people’s minds. So, you want me to learn a way of blocking it? Why?”

“We believe ...” the Headmaster broke off when Snape coughed. “Alright, _I_ believe that the connection you have with Voldemort’s mind could be blocked if you were to learn Occlumency.”

“And, let me guess, just a wild stab here, but you don’t have time to teach me and you want Professor Snape to give up some of his precious free time to do it.”

I had the satisfaction of seeing the old coot look disconcerted for a moment and I caught a momentary gleam in Snape’s eyes.

I turned to Snape and looked at him openly. “Sir, would you mind briefly demonstrating for me what happens when a Legilimens goes into another’s mind? I want to know a bit more before I agree. And experience is always useful.”

He raised an eyebrow before saying, “certainly Mr. Potter. Bring to the front of your thoughts what was on your plate for lunch. I wasn’t in the Great Hall at that time, so I could not have seen.”

I nodded, then did as he requested. “I’m ready, Professor.”

“Look me in the eye. Legilimens!”

I immediately felt something was different, but it was familiar. Well shit, the old bastard has been doing this to me already.

“Focus on your lunch, Potter.”

Oh yeah. Forgot that. I brought the plate back to mind. Then I felt him leave my mind.

“Cheese and ham sandwich, two sliced tomatoes, a pickled onion, a yoghurt and a glass of pumpkin juice.”

“Exactly right, sir. May I ask if you can always tell if someone else is in your mind?”

“No, Harry, if it’s being done correctly most people won’t notice the legilimency happening.”

I caught Snape’s very small shake of his head from the corner of my eye. Well, I would have to wait to ask him a few more questions.

“Mr. Potter, please come to my office at nine on Saturday morning for an initial session and we can decide the parameters from there.”

I nodded, then asked, “is that all sir? I do need to go to my Astronomy class shortly.”

“No, no, that’s everything for the time being. Off you go.” And his eyes twinkled behind his half-moon spectacles, like a glitter ball at a disco.

I went up the Astronomy Tower as quickly as I could, so that I would be there as close to the start of class as possible. Professor Sinistra just nodded to me as I came through the door and continued to set up a double telescope.

A couple of minutes later she began the class with the by now familiar reminder that this was our OWL year and that we would start with some revision.

Ninety minutes later she sent us off with a two-foot essay to write before next week.

“What did he want, Harry?” asked Neville as we reached the common room.

“Wants me to learn Occlumency.” Justin looked puzzled, but the other two just nodded. “Trouble is, it’s to be with Snape.”

Neville shuddered then said, “Harry, how come? Surely someone else could do it.”

“Dumbledore’s too busy and Snape’s apparently the next best available.”

“But it’s Snape! Do you really want him inside your head?”

“No, of course not. But I don’t have a lot of choice. Actually, while I’m on the subject, have any of you had Dumbledore do it to you?”

Malfoy exploded, “what?!”

I just looked at him.

“Potter, it seems like every time we have a conversation you reveal that someone is doing illegal things to you.”

I looked at Neville who nodded and said, “yeah, that sounds a fair summary.”

It was Justin who asked for an explanation.

“It’s illegal to perform Legilimency on underage people when their parent or legally appointed guardian is not present,” said Malfoy. “And if it is the parent or guardian who does it, there must be an independent legal representative present instead.”

“Harry, how do you know Dumbledore did it to you?” asked Neville.

I explained how I’d asked Snape to demonstrate to me what it would be like and that I’d recognised the sensation. “I was going to call the bastard on it, but Snape signalled to me to leave it. I’m to meet with him on Saturday morning after breakfast for a first lesson and I intend to discuss it with him then.”

“Does that mean you’re coming around to trusting Snape?” asked Justin. “You know you could be buying trouble that way, don’t you? I mean the two of you don’t exactly get on.”

“Yeah, I know,” I sighed. “But I can’t recall that he has ever lied to me or deliberately tried to deceive me. I’m not sure which other adult in my life is like that.”

Malfoy nodded, “yeah, he’s like that with me as well. He’ll refuse to answer or put me off, but he won’t lie or dress up a fact. Actually, I can’t ever recall him even teasing me. He’s a good man, Potter.”

“Just wish he would show it sometimes instead of snarking and shredding and generally being a git.”

“Do you want a Dreamless Sleep tonight? He gave me two for you. If you have it, though, you can’t have another until Saturday, ’cause ...”

“They’re addictive. I know, I’ve had that lecture from Pomphrey often enough. Just wish I could dream about normal things, instead of manipulative wizards with a poor taste in faces. Mind you, a pink witch is a strong candidate for nightmares now.”

The others chuckled at that and Malfoy handed over a vial leaving it to my decision as to which night I took it on.

“Mentioning dreams, I haven’t forgotten. Tell me more about you dreaming about my house.”

I explained briefly what I had seen.

Malfoy’s eyes glittered for a moment. He obviously was upset to learn that the noseless wonder had taken up residence at Malfoy Manor.

“Thank you, Potter, for telling me. I need to write to Mother.”

And with that the four of us went to our beds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's okay, I don't intend to write full details of every day through months and months. That would be too taxing on my powers of invention. However, you are going to get the first week at this level of detail, while the story elements are set up.


	6. Spell Creation Class

**Thursday 5 September**

In the end I decided to take the potion so as to get two night’s unbroken sleep in a row. When I woke my dick was so hard, it was painful. A quick tempus charm indicated that I had about 20 minutes before the others would want the bathroom, so I grabbed a towel and slipped quietly in. I stripped quickly, went into the cubicle and started wanking.

I settled into a rhythm but was unsuccessful until an image of Justin still dripping stepping out of the shower appeared in my mind. He slowly raised his head and looked me in the eye, then ran his tongue over his lips. His hands ran over his body and slowly descended to his erect prick. One hand went down to cup his balls, while the other slid slowly back and forth along the shaft.

I gasped, opened my eyes and then my dick exploded. The first shot rose in front of my face, while the next two hit my chin and dripped slowly off and on to my chest. Where the rest went, I had no idea as I was too stunned to think. Thankfully the shower stall had a seat, because my knees started to buckle and there was no way I could continue to stand.

I reached up and turned the shower on and let the water cascade down over me as I slumped on the seat. That was the most intense orgasm I’d yet experienced. I pulled myself together sufficiently to wash myself, then pulling the towel around my waist and a baggy t-shirt over my head, I left the cubicle only to find that Justin was standing at the handbasins doing his teeth.

He looked up and grinned at me. “Well, that sounded pretty hot.”

“What?” I tried to say nonchalantly, but I could feel my face redden as I remembered that I’d had an image of him when I came.

“Your jack off session, of course. It must have been a good one with the way you were moaning and grunting. Oh, you still have some spunk on your chin, let me ...”

He broke off as Malfoy stumbled in and went into a toilet. Justin and I looked at each other and grinned. We had both seen the tent in Malfoy’s pyjamas. I went to a mirror and wiped off my chin with some tissues, then went back to the bedroom and got dressed.

First class was Transfiguration and then it would be our first lesson with Flitwick in the new Spell Creation course.

“What books do you reckon we’ll need for Flitwick’s new class?” Neville asked.

“I reckon he’ll give us what we need to begin with,” said Justin. “Anyway, let’s head for breakfast.”

We’d started eating breakfast when I suddenly remembered that I still hadn’t talked to Hagrid about not taking Care of Magical Creatures this year. I saw Hermione talking to him and sighed. I certainly didn’t want to talk to him in her presence. Not with the way she’d react if she found out I was doing a class that she hadn’t been offered.

“What’s up, Harry?” asked Neville.

“Haven’t spoken to Hagrid yet, and Hermione’s around.”

The others all pulled faces. They knew exactly what I meant. We were going out of the Great Hall to head to Transfiguration when we met Hagrid and Hermione.

“Harry,” Hermione was so excited about something that she was nearly squealing. “Hagrid’s got Griffins for us to study for the next few weeks. Isn’t it going to be incredible?”

“Err ...”

I was saved from answering by Hagrid. “Stop worrying, Harry. I already know. It’ll be fine, eh?”

“Sorry Hermione, we must dash. We’ve got McGonagall first and we mustn’t be late.”

She knew it was an excuse, but she let it go.

We arrived at the same time as the Slytherin group. Ron nodded to me and Neville and headed across to the further side of the room. Malfoy, on the other hand, was brought into a big hug by Parkinson.

“Drakey Poo. How are you coping away from us? It must be terrible for you. No green and silver, just blue. Blue is such a sad colour, isn’t it?”

“Miss Parkinson, when you are quite finished mauling your fellow students, I would like to commence the lesson.” It was McGonagall at her most tart.

“Sorry, Professor,” she simpered.

“Detention, Miss Parkinson. Projecting your thoughts at me is not advisable, particularly when they are derogatory. For your information, I am neither an old maid, nor a sour puss, nor for that matter, frigid. Take your seat beside Mr. Weasley. Maybe the two of you will learn respect, but I have my doubts.”

Pansy’s face was as red as Ron’s hair as she stalked across the room and sat down.

We had sat as a group again, still the most unlikely four guys to get on together, but we were finding out that we had more in common than not. McGonagall had us working on changing blocks of wood into a teaset for two. Justin had his in about five minutes, while the rest of us were struggling to get anything that remotely looked like a teaset, let alone usable.

“Potter?” asked Justin. “Remember our conversation yesterday?”

“Yes. I’ve got a series of intermediate steps in mind, but they don’t seem to be right.”

“What does your teapot look like?”

“Well, it’s the usual for Indian tea ...”

“Metal, right?”

I nodded.

“So, you’re trying to turn something organic into an inorganic substance.”

“Oh, so to do that I’d need to change it at the molecular level. I don’t think I understand valence bonds well enough to do that.”

The other two looked mystified by our conversation, while Justin grinned and said, “yeah, or study Alchemy. What about you two, what are you visualising?”

“Bone china, of course,” said Malfoy.

“Again, that’s turning a vegetable into a mineral. Sorry, muggle reference. Umm., okay. Look, the piece of wood came from something that was alive, right?”

They nodded.

“The clay for china comes from digging up a particular type of dirt. They’re not the same kind of substance at all.”

“Mr Finch-Fletchley, this is good reasoning. Could you please share your thoughts more widely?” It was Professor McGonagall.

“Uh, sure.”

And he started explaining the differences between organic and inorganic. “So, transfiguration between the same group of substances is always easier. In fact, the closer the substances, the more straightforward it is.”

“Very good. So, when I changed my desk into a pig, what was going on?”

“Well, the desk is mostly wood, so it’s organic and a pig is also organic. That means it’s an easier change.”

“And would it be possible to use the pig in the various ways that pigs are generally used?”

“You mean for pork products? I don’t know. Probably not with something I’d done, but maybe if you’d done it.”

I raised my hand.

“Yes, Mr. Potter?”

“So, if changing something organic into something else that’s inorganic is difficult, why is the first task match to needle? I mean, that’s wood to metal.”

“Excellent question. Two points. Oh, and five points Mr. Finch-Fletchley for your explanation. Now, some of what I’m going to talk about is NEWT level and the rest is part of obtaining a mastery.” She held up a hand as a few people took a breath to start talking. “Learning about one of the fundamental principles of magic will not do you any harm, and should you be able to articulate it in an exam, it is likely to gain you an O with ease.”

At that the Slytherins’ faces took on an interested look and all the Ravenclaws made sure there was sufficient ink on their quills.

“Now, there are several parts to my answer. First, there is Wing Chen’s Principle of magical decay. This principle is about how quickly a magically created object decays and returns to its original state. There are three variables that feed into the length of time. The strength of the caster, the strength of the intent, and the comparative size of the two objects. The rate of decay follows the inverse square law. Because a matchstick and a needle are similar sized, that factor is minimised, leaving us with the two strength variables. Because it’s the first piece of transfiguration a student does and I am a somewhat stern woman, everyone’s intent is reasonably strong.” She said the comment about being stern with a quiet smile that made us all laugh.

“This leaves the strength of the caster. Doing the matchstick to needle transfiguration allows me to work out the relative strength of the students at that point in time. Note that wixen do get stronger as they practice and as they go through the stages of adolescence. I should also say that some of the strongest casters in your year took until the second lesson to achieve the transfiguration. It’s not about how quickly the material is mastered, rather it’s about how it is mastered.

“Now, the second part of my answer relates to the Aristotelian theories of substance and accidents. Aristotle was a Classical Greek philosopher who put together one of the first classifications of beings. Basically, what he said was things that have the same name are the same thing in substance but may look different by their accidents.”

She could probably see that none of us got that.

“Let me give you an example,” and she placed four chairs at the front of the classroom. “What are these?”

“Chairs,” was the general response.

“But they’re all different to each other. What is it that makes each of these a chair? Yes, Mx. Zabini?”

Xe started on an explanation but bogged down. “You know, that’s not easy. For everything I come up with, I can find a counter-example and yet I know that each of those is a chair.”

“This is good and shows that you are thinking carefully. So, we agree that these are all chairs even though they look so different. In substance they are all chairs and therefore the same, but in their accidents they are different. This is why you can each do a correct transfiguration but come up with something quite different. If I asked you for a wing-backed armchair you would all come up with something pretty similar, probably with different coverings but the same shape. However, when I simply ask for a chair there will be a wide range of different chairs because you would all think of something different. Now, matchstick to needle is likely to produce the most consistent results. The vast majority of eleven-year-olds think of an ordinary sewing needle, and whether that be a darning needle or an embroidery one, they’re pretty similar. A few students have gone with a knitting needle over the years, and one produced a hypodermic.”

“A what?” asked Ron.

It was Parkinson who answered, “it’s a device used to administer medications.” When she saw our surprise, she quickly explained that she has an aunt with diabetes.

“Thank you,” said Professor McGonagall. “It’s important for young witches and wizards to be able to immediately compare their progress with their peers. This was something you all achieved in two lessons.

“The third part of my answer to Mr. Potter’s question relates to the number of intermediate steps required. No transfigurations are ever instant—even when it seems like that. As part of the intent aspect, the caster needs to be able imagine the change happening. For the first few transfigurations, the fewer intermediate states the better.

“And the fourth part relates to the relative naivety of eleven-year-olds. If you don’t know that something is either impossible or very difficult, then it isn’t. It is unlikely that even muggle-raised wixen would have studied enough chemistry and physics to have learned of the immutability of substances.”

I thought back to what I was like when I first came to Hogwarts. She was right, everything was amazing and the seemingly impossible was happening. So, as I learnt to harness and use the magic I had been given, I had no reason to question whether it was breaking any physical laws.

“So, if we start by changing the block of wood into a wooden teapot, then it should be easier?” asked Merilyn Cotterill, one of the Ravenclaw girls.

“Yes, but remember that wooden teasets are toys for children to play with. They’re not practical for real life use.”

“What about changing the block into a block of metal before shaping it?” suggested Goyle.

There was a pause while we took in the fact that Goyle had not only opened his mouth but made a sensible suggestion. Then I said, “so doing that would be like doing match to needle, just with a bit more power.”

“Five points, Mr. Goyle. And yes, Mr Potter. Just be careful how much more power.”

At that moment, the bell to indicate the end of class rang and we were dismissed to continue to practice ready for our next class.

As we left the classroom Parkinson tried to latch on to Malfoy again. “Walk with me down to Care, Draco.”

At the same time Ron appeared between Neville and me, “did you hear what Hagrid’s got for us?”

I realised that we had a bigger problem than not letting Hermione know we had a special class. We actually had all of our year that would be jealous when they found out. “Ah, Ron. We’re not going to Care today. Flitwick wants to see us—umm—on House business.” I finished at a rush hoping that my inspiration would be enough to satisfy him.

“No Pansy. I am not your boyfriend. And, as Potter just said, I have a meeting with my head of house. You’ll have get down to your class with the others.” Then turning to us he said, “gentlemen?”

We nodded, detached ourselves from our classmates and walked in the opposite direction. Behind us we could hear Parkinson’s voice quacking away.

“How do you cope with her, Malfoy?” asked Justin. “I’d have hexed her long ago.”

“Wish I could, but our parents are friends and her father keeps asking for a betrothal contract for me.” He shuddered and continued, “so far my mother has been holding up the process, thankfully. She, at least, sees that it would not be a good match.”

By then we had reached the Charms classroom.

“Welcome in, gentlemen,” squeaked Flitwick. “Today I want to test your imaginations.” We must have looked surprised or something, for he continued, “Yes, a strong element of successful spell creation is the imagination of the caster.”

He took us through a series of visualisation exercises, then asked us to imagine listening to a storm while touching a stone with our wand hand.

“Well now, very interesting. You each have strong abilities in complementary things. Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy, your storms were on the Quidditch Pitch, were they not?” We nodded. “And yet they were quite different. Mr. Malfoy you carried with you your own bubble of calmness where the effects of the storm couldn’t reach you, a portable eye of the storm, if you like. Whereas Mr. Potter you just flew through regardless of what was happening around you.”

He turned to the others, “now Mr. Longbottom your storm was more terrestrial in that you were on the ground with trees whipping around, but nothing broke off because you were able to protect them. And Mr. Finch-Fletchley, you were sitting in a library beside a crackling fire while the storm raged outside. As I said, very interesting.”

“Sir? We were wondering, uh, why just us four?” I asked. “For this class, I mean.”

“I was wondering when you would ask this. Well, there are several reasons. First, both the Grey Lady and the Sorting Hat indicated that you four were likely to be together in Ravenclaw this year. Second, the Bloody Baron pushed us to start this course up again. And third, you four have a magical affinity.”

“A what?” asked Justin.

“A magical affinity. Magically, the four of you are very close and this is an opportunity to teach you how to utilise that. The other wixen in your year have quite different magic.” He could see that we weren’t getting it. “Alright, let’s look at this in a different way. Mr. Finch-Fletchley, you can see magic, can’t you? Please describe for us what the magic of your three companions looks like.”

“Oh, uh, I’ve never thought about it before. It seemed kind of intrusive. Okay, uh, all three are the same shade of deep blue. Longbottom’s is like a large slowly moving bubble, Malfoy’s is coiled up as if it’s ready spring into action, and Potter’s is shapeless in itself, but always on the move ready to form into whatever shape he needs it to be.”

“Oh, bravo!” he squeaked enthusiastically. “Now, touch this stone and project those images so that we can see them.”

“Bloody hell,” exclaimed Malfoy. “They really are the same colour.”

“Yes,” said Flitwick. “And what’s more, they’re all of them smooth. No spikes.”

“But what about Justin’s magic?” asked Neville. Then he caught the look on our faces. “What? Oh, don’t be silly. First names are much easier, especially between us when we’re exercising or training like this in a small group. Anyway, sir, how does Justin’s magic fit with ours?”

“Mr. Finch-Fletchley, let your magic into the stone, then command it to project.”

We gasped because not only was it the same deep blue colour, but it was shaped like there were slots that our magic could fit into.

“Well, I was expecting something along those lines, but not quite as perfectly matched as that. Dear me, you will make a very formidable group when you learn to team cast. Remember that I’m an expert dueller and will often take on multiple opponents at once. Now that I’ve seen that, I am not prepared to take on you four together even in your untrained state. It would not be good for my health—or indeed my reputation. I can see now why the Grey Lady wanted you four together.

“I recommend that you never partner in class with anyone else, particularly while you learn to work with each other. Now, Mr. Finch-Fletchley, your gym training sessions. I recommend that these are supervised to take best advantage of your compatibility. I will contact my brother and see if he can help.”

We must have looked puzzled, for he said, “it’s okay, he’s a sergeant-at-arms in the goblin imperial army and is well experienced at training warriors and at keeping silent. Which brings me to my next point. Mr. Malfoy, I recommend telling Professor Snape about this as he will be able to advise the four of you on the mind magic side of things.”

Then he looked very seriously at us all, “and make sure that you tell nobody else about your affinity. Particularly, none of the other staff or students. Neither of the leaders in this war must find out. It would be a one-way ticket to meet Death if either of them did. You would be used and abused with no compunction and no concern for your welfare either as individual people or as a group.

“There is one other aspect of your combined magic that must be considered and trained for and that is your sexual magic. I have no experience in this aspect and cannot advise you. The only person in the school with some knowledge is, unfortunately, female and is a closet supporter of He-who-must-not-be-named. I will seek advice from my brother.”

“Sexual magic?” I asked.

“Yes, the way that Mr. Finch-Fletchley’s magic works to combine yours indicates that combining your magic in intimate ways,” and here he blushed, “would increase its potential further than just standing side by side and casting.”

“So, you want someone to come and teach us about sex? That’s going to be so embarrassing,” said Neville.

“Unfortunately yes. However, it’s important because of your high degree of affinity. It’s also important that you don’t do anything together until you’ve had some training.”

We stared at him, not sure what to say. I mean I certainly hadn’t been thinking of getting ‘intimate’ with anyone, let alone Neville or Justin. And most definitely not with Malfoy. Urgh. The looks on the others’ faces suggested that pretty much the same thoughts were going through their minds.

“Definitely not talking about this to anyone,” I muttered. Then I shuddered at my imagination of Hermione’s look of fascination and Ron’s cries of disgust if they even got an inkling of it.

There were murmurs of agreement from the others.

I don’t think I was ever so relieved to hear the bell for the end of class and we were quick to grab our gear and leave,

The walk back to Ravenclaw Tower was silent as none of us wanted to be the one who spoke first. It was only when we reached our room that Neville said, “that was so embarrassing.”

There were general noises of agreement from the rest of us.

“I mean we’re only fifteen, and the idea of getting someone in to teach us how ...” and he shuddered. “It’s just ...”

“Yeah, we know,” replied Malfoy, without sneering. “We’re only just learning to live with each other. I mean this is only the third day and to have that idea put in my head. I don’t think I’ll ever recover my innocence,” he finished dramatically.

Justin snorted, “innocence?”

“Yes. I know we’re randy male teenagers, but it’s not focused on anyone in particular. And I’m not sure I’m into guys, anyway.”

Neville hummed agreement, while Justin nodded, “fair enough. I know I am.” He held his hand up in a stop sign. “No, listen to me. I like guys who have good muscles, and if they have hair, even better. Something like these guys.” And he pulled out a couple of photos of Daniel Radcliffe and Matthew Lewis in their mid-twenties with their shirts off.

“So, you’re saying that we’re safe from you until we look like them,” I said.

“Yup,” he said with a grin. “Now, what have we got this afternoon?”

“Herbology, then History,” answered Malfoy.

We busied ourselves grabbing what we’d need, then headed down for lunch.


	7. An Interesting Afternoon

“Okay, what do you want me to eat?” I asked Justin.

“Take a medium portion of that chicken salad. It’s got a good range of nutrients.”

I nodded agreement and we chatted about the possibility of getting up a football league for the weekends that there wasn’t a Quidditch match. After a while, I looked up and saw Hermione heading towards us.

“Watch out, here comes Hermione.”

“Good afternoon,” she chirped.

I groaned inside. Hermione chirping was never a good sign. It usually meant an intense conversation was on the way. Or else she was going to show care and understanding in the face of perplexity.

“Hi,” I replied.

“So, you didn’t come to Care of Magical Creatures this morning. Ron said that you gave him some line about having a meeting with Professor Flitwick. Of course, that’s really unlikely during the school day, particularly when he knows you have a class at that time, so I know that wasn’t true. So, there’s only one possibility left. You and Malfoy were having a duel and Neville and Finch-Fletchley were your seconds. You know Harry, you’ve got to be really careful this year. Particularly with ...” she broke off, looked a little flustered, then said lamely, “well you know what I mean.”

“Mercy, Granger. You really do have no idea, do you?” sneered Malfoy. [You know, I find myself joining the words Malfoy and sneer rather a lot, but really it is the best word for most of his reactions.] “For your information, not that we owe you any explanation, there was no duel; we were meeting with Professor Flitwick; and it was with the knowledge of the teacher of Care.”

I noted that he couldn’t bring himself to call Hagrid by his name or refer to him as a professor, but he seemed to be avoiding his usual word of “oaf”.

“And, Ms. Granger,” spoke up Justin in his plummiest tones. “If there had been a duel, do you not think that the two protagonists would be somewhat the worse for wear. Unless of course you think that Longbottom and I have suddenly acquired a talent for healing on top of the immense skills and talents we already possess. One presumes that given your name you are familiar with the concept of grangerising, because that is exactly what it seems to me you are doing. Gentlemen, shall we make our way in the direction of our next class?”

We rose together to our feet and left her behind us, spluttering quietly.

Once we’d left the hall and were out of earshot, Malfoy and I caught each other’s eye and started laughing.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Granger so lost for words,” he got out between his guffaws. “That was brilliant, Jus... ah, Finch-Fletchley.”

“Mr. Malfoy, I formally give you permission to use my first name in casual conversation.”

“Thank you, Mr. Finch-Fletchley. I do likewise.”

Then they shook hands while murmuring “Justin” and “Draco.” Neville was nodding approvingly, while I just looked on in bemusement. I mean, what was that about? My puzzlement must have shown, for Malfoy turned to Neville and said condescendingly, “do explain the finer points of etiquette to Potter.” Then he turned back, and he and Justin took the lead as we continued down to the greenhouses.

Neville gave me a potted summary of how introductions are done in formal and pureblood situations. “Always assume that it’s a formal situation—even when you’re naked. The more potentially embarrassing a situation is or could be, the more formal you need to be.”

“But Neville, that’s not how we did things when we met that first night.”

“No, but we didn’t exactly have good role models before us, did we? I mean Fred and George?”

I laughed, “Yes, I can just imagine how that would have gone. ‘Please call me Weasley.’ ‘Oh no, it’s my turn to be Weasley, you have to be Sir.’ Then shaking hands with each other and murmuring ‘Gred’ and ‘Forge’.”

“Exactly, and Hermione was never going to call any of us Mr. or Ms., was she? Even on the train, it was ‘Neville has lost his frog,’ rather than Mr. Longbottom.”

“So, if I’d gone into Slytherin the first year, like the hat wanted, I’d have learned this stuff?”

Malfoy stopped dead in his tracks when I said that. He turned and said, “seriously, Potter? Are you saying you argued with the Sorting Hat?”

“Yeah, it told me I could be great in Slytherin, but I didn’t want to go there.”

“Why ever not?” he spluttered.

“I don’t know, maybe it was a blond prat I met while buying robes and then tried to act like he owned me on the train. Remember that first impressions count for eleven-year-olds. They don’t know to look beyond the surface.”

Malfoy looked embarrassed for a moment, then asked, “was I really that bad?”

It was Justin who answered, “yes, Draco, most definitely.”

“And what about since then? Did it want to move you before this year?”

“Only if I wanted to. This year, though, it told me that I had no choice. And that was almost before I put it on.”

This conversation took us down to the glasshouses, where we met up with the Gryffindors and Professor Sprout.

She gathered us in a group outside and talked about it being our OWLs year and how important it was to not just understand what we were learning, but also how to apply it in a range of situations.

“Now, your first task this year is to set up the plants and trays the first years will be using over the next few weeks. And, no, this is not about me getting some cheap labour. This is giving you a chance to do some revision of what you learnt back then, but from a different perspective. Knowing what you do now, what would have been most helpful back then? Think it through, then come into Glasshouse One, and work on setting up seed trays for them to use for growing Aconite.

“By the way, once they’ve grown them, the plants will come back to you for harvesting as part of your studies.”

We set to work and took full advantage of Neville’s murmured instructions. He really did have a lot of skill where plants are concerned, and he showed us how to set the trays up so that there were multiple stages of growth in the same tray. “That way the kids can see at once how the plants will develop. I reckon that would have been really helpful when we started on these.”

He got us to leave the last row empty except for the moistened soil. “Now, put it under a second level stasis charm.”

“Why second level?” I asked.

“Anything higher, they won’t be able to undo, and a first level won’t last for long enough.”

Justin then said, “just a suggestion, but what about using a series of stasis charms so that, as each row reaches the maturity level of the next, the charm breaks and they grow together? That way we’d have a full tray of mature plants to use when we need them.”

“Oh, hadn’t thought of that. How would we do it? We’ll need set up the triggers now as well.”

The four of us started brainstorming the problem but weren’t getting anywhere until Malfoy asked if height would work. “I mean, at the moment every plant in each row is the same height. When, say, the second or third plant in a row reached that height it could trigger the stasis to break.”

Neville broke into a grin. “Brilliant, Malfoy. Let me set up another tray that we can trial it on.”

“How are we going to trial it, Neville?” I asked. “I mean each stage takes at least two weeks, if I remember right.”

“Magic,” was his only reply as he quickly reproduced another tray the same as ours. “Now, let me think. Ah yes.” He slid a drinking straw in amongst the back row.

“Justin, could you please put a focused level six charm on the fully-grown row? Good.” In the next row he slid another straw that he’d cut off about two inches shorter.

“Malfoy, another level six on the next row.”

He continued this along the tray, with each of us taking turns to cast the charms, until he finished with a toothpick and cast a third level charm himself.

“Now, I’ll just sow seeds into the empty row.”

Having done that, he put his hands on each side of the tray and closed his eyes.

Justin gasped and said in a whisper, “he’s put a blue bubble of magic into the tray.”

Neville opened his eyes again and said, “now watch.”

As we watched tiny white shoots appeared in the soil of the row where he’d sown the seeds, then turned green and rose steadily to reach the height of the next row. They all got there at about the same time, then I felt something but couldn’t define it.

“Done it,” shouted Justin and clapped Neville on the back with one hand and shook hands with Malfoy, then grinned widely at me.

When we looked back at the tray the third row had kicked in.

Professor Sprout came over just then. “Neville, you know that we can’t use magic to grow potion ingredients. The magic affects the balance in the cauldron.”

“Yes, we know that Professor. This is an experiment to test the usefulness of the way we’ve set up our trays. I’m going to incendio all the plants in this tray when we’ve finished.”

“Oh, my. What just happened then?”

“That row reached a designated height and broke the stasis charm on the next row,” said Justin.

Neville then touched the tray again and tweaked something. “So far all the plants have been growing at exactly the same rate. I’ve slowed some of them down.”

One of the plants reached the next height and nothing happened, then a second. Still nothing. Then a third and the same feeling came again.

We all breathed out at the same time, not realising we’d been holding it. Justin and I high-fived and Malfoy put his hand out to Neville and they shook hands.

“So, it doesn’t matter who set the charm, the trigger works,” I said.

“Alright, could someone please explain?” asked Professor Sprout.

“It’s Neville’s idea, we just helped with the implementation,” said Justin.

Neville went red but managed to explain how we’d done a series of maturity stages and then the stasis charms.

“Well, I have to say, that’s the first time anyone has ever suggested this. I want you to write this up as a paper and we’ll get it published in either _Advances in Herbology_ or _Potions Weekly_. Oh, and ten points. Each.”

She went off to where Seamus and Dean were working, while we finished off setting up the real trays.

“Longbottom,” asked Malfoy. “Why does a stasis charm not affect the ingredients? I mean it’s still magic, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but a stasis charm sits outside the plant. It’s not taken up by the plant, so when the stasis is taken off the magic isn’t still there.”

“Well sometimes it does stay as sort of dregs,” said Justin. “But that’s more when the charm was sloppy when it was created. If it’s done carefully and precisely like we’re doing them, there is no residual left.”

The bell went as we finished the trays.

“Before you all rush away,” called Professor Sprout. “Two feet on the properties of Aconite, to be handed in next class. Please put your trays on the wooden bench to the left of the door.”

“Neville,” said Justin. “Don’t forget to take your magic back out of the experimental tray before you destroy the plants.”

“Can we do that?” I asked. “I mean put magic into things and then take it back?”

“Yes,” came his firm reply. “What’s more, we should. Leaving our magic lying around is just inviting people to steal little bits and then they’ve got something to match against.”

“Like doing a DNA match, you mean?”

“Exactly. Your magic has some of your genetic material in it, you know.”

Well no, I didn’t know that. But I could see that I wasn’t the only one from the look on Malfoy’s face.

Neville was quickly done, and we trooped back up to the Castle and then up to History. “Yay,” I muttered. “Another exciting dose of the adventures of Grobwitt.”

“Hey, sounds like a good title for a book series,” said Justin. “Hmm, let’s see, individual titles could be: _Grobwitt on a Treasure Island_, _Grobwitt Goes Adventuring Again,_ and _Grobwitt Goes to Demon’s Rocks_.”

I laughed. “I think you’ve drunk too much from the Enid Blyton well.”

“Maybe, but they were good stories for me as a nine-year-old. They turned me on to reading and I devoured them. I was sure I was going to meet with adventures like them every time I went outside. After all, I did grow up in Dorset, you know.”

“Enid Blyton?” asked Malfoy.

“Muggle author of children’s books. Wrote hundreds of them. All of them pretty much the same, just with different characters. They were either kids going off on adventures by themselves and only calling adults in at the last moment; or they were fairy-folk and the like,” replied Justin.

“I only got to read the ones the school library had,” I added.

We reached the classroom and slipped quietly in. Binns had already started and the room was slowly filling up with the torpor of bored teenagers. He didn’t seem to notice our late arrival but continued on with his narrative.

Just as I was beginning to join my classmates in dozing off, I heard Binns say, “and now we come to most unusual episode in Grobwitt’s life. The time when he met four young wizards who shared a magical affinity.”

Malfoy and I looked at each other, then quickly nudged Neville and Justin back to full consciousness. Thankfully, Hermione was at the front of the room so couldn’t see our sudden interest.

“Much of the tale is steeped in fable, for whoever heard of such a thing as four wizards with a magical affinity? However, as in all these matters, there is a thread of truth in the story as some of it can be demonstrated.

“The four young wizards had come from different backgrounds. One, even, was muggleborn. Another was raised in dubious circumstances by an aunt. Grobwitt sensed the power that these four wizards had and trained them both physically and magically. They then went out as four mighty warriors, who forced the end of both the War of the Roses and the Wizarding War of Northumbria.

“We covered the Northumbrian War in detail at the end of last term, so a short recap is all that is necessary. A Dark Lord had arisen in the aftermath of the Battle of Tewkesbury. With Henry VI’s mental state being variable, Edward IV had taken the throne. The Yorkists and the Lancastrians were occupied by this conflict and this Dark Lord was free to wreak havoc amongst the English peoples. Neither of the factions were aware of the magical world as there had been no access to either monarch to give them the essential information. This left the Light and Grey groups and families unprotected and the balance went in favour of the Dark. Matters came to a head when the Light and Grey factions managed to ward themselves into a large section of Northumbria. The Dark Lord then waged his war against them.

“It was the four wizards who had been trained by Grobwitt that brought this war to an end. The precise method used to accomplish this is unknown and there are many speculative tales that have arisen (some of which cannot be repeated in mixed company), but the Dark Lord was no more and was unable to be resurrected.

“Of the four wizards, as I’ve already said, one was muggleborn. But the others came one from each of the three factions. One Dark, one Light, and one Grey. They did not allow undue depredations or reparations to be made and insisted that new elections for Minister and Chief of the Wizengamot be held.

“Having settled the Magical World, the four of them then took horse and rode together to Windsor, where the mundane court was then residing. By now Richard III had taken the throne through various under-hand means and the wizards manipulated matters to cause him to ride to meet Henry Tudor at Bosworth, where he died in the battle leaving Henry victor over the field and shortly to be crowned King. He consolidated his position by marrying Richard’s niece, Elizabeth of York, thus combining the two houses. It is believed that the four wizards were instrumental in causing this to happen.”

The bell to indicate the end of class rang and Professor Binns looked up at the stretching, yawning students, nodded once and departed through the blackboard.

The four of us just stared at each other, before I finally stammered out: “four young wizards with a magical affinity from four different backgrounds get trained by a goblin and go off and stop a Dark Lord and then cause the end of an unjust regime in the mundane world.”

“Don’t forget and generally restore peace to both worlds,” added Neville.

“Library?” asked Justin. “Bother, we can’t. I’ve got Ancient Runes study group now.”

“C-could we come too?” asked Neville. “I never considered taking Runes, I just chose the subjects Ron went with so that I would know someone.”

“Oh, I did that too. I don’t really know anything about Runes.”

“Come on then,” said Justin.

We trooped along a couple of corridors and went into a classroom I’d never noticed before. Hermione was there, of course, and she had the decency to blush when she saw us come into the room, then quickly looked back down at her books.

“Professor, these three gentlemen might be interested in joining the Runes class. Might they take part in the study group today, just to see what it’s about?”

Professor Babbling looked startled for a moment, then hastily agreed. I guessed she was happy to get any students, given there were only twelve of us in the room.

I looked with interest around the walls of the classroom and recognised several different scripts. There was Roman, of course, but there was also Greek, Thai, Cyrillic, and Devanagari, along with many I didn’t recognise.

“Right,” it was the Professor, “by now I’m sure you’ve all heard the OWLs speech several times, so I won’t go through it all with you. However, I will reiterate that it is important that you apply your learning and not just learn the theory.

“Now, at the end of last term we began covering the Brahmic scripts. Principal among these is the Devanagari, which is used to write several languages including Hindi. For many wixen from the Indic diaspora, this is the main script they use for doing rune work. The ‘ancient’ aspect comes from the fact that it was originally used to transcribe spoken Sanskrit, which is a so-called dead language. Dead in that it is not spoken any more as a mother tongue.

“In today’s study group session, I would like you to learn the Devanagari alphabet starting with the vowels.”

We settled to the task. I pulled some paper out of my bag and cut it up into squares, then transcribed the characters one on to each square and put the Roman transliteration on the back. We then used them to test each other.

“Where did you learn this idea, Potter?” asked Malfoy. “It’s certainly a good way.”

“Standard muggle method of teaching kids to read. They’re called flash cards.”

“Why that name?” asked Neville.

“Because one way they’re used is to ‘flash’ them, or show them really quickly, and then have the kids tell you the word or letter they saw,” replied Justin.

“Now for the real challenge,” I said, as I turned the cards over so that the Roman character was showing. “Four cards each. Without peeking, write down the Devanagari character on the other side.”

I easily got my four, Justin struggled a bit but made it also. Malfoy and Neville only got two each, but they mixed up the diphthongs.

“Harry, how did you do that so easily?” asked Neville.

“I already know the Devanagari script. I spend a lot of time in the public library each summer, when I’m not cooking or gardening, and last year one of the librarians suggested I learnt some languages. So, I learnt Hindi, Thai and Russian. This year I worked on Greek and Tagalog.”

Justin looked stunned, “are you fluent in all of those?”

“Enough to get through a conversation, but nowhere near as good as English and Parseltongue. I picked those ones because that’s what the various librarians spoke as their first language.”

“I think you really do need to be taking this course.”

“Hmm, but what’s it for?”

“It’s another way of channelling magic. Look,” and he pulled a piece of A4-sized paper out of his bag. Halfway along the top edge he wrote a small character, then a different one about two-thirds down the right-hand side, put a dot on the bottom edge and finished by writing a mirror image of the second character opposite it on the left-hand side. Then he pulled out his wand and tapped the centre of the paper. The paper then started moving of its own accord and folded itself into a dart, just like the ones we got into trouble at primary school for making and throwing around the classroom.

“So, what did you do there?” asked Neville.

“Well, I made what’s called a runic array—just a simple one—then activated it. While this example is a trivial one, there are many powerful uses for runes. For example, most wards on private houses are based on runes that were put into the foundations.”

“And what about Wing Chen’s Principle?” that was Malfoy.

“That’s the beauty of using runes. There is no decay.”

“How?” He was challenged right back.

“Because it’s not a magical object.”

“But wards need to be renewed,” said Neville.

“Yes, because they are magical objects. But the runes themselves don’t decay. And that paper dart is still just a piece of paper, so Wing Chen’s Principle doesn’t apply to it.”

I looked up just then to see both Hermione and Professor Babbling looking at us bemusedly.

“So, guys, are we three joining this class?” I asked Neville and Malfoy.

Malfoy’s eyes glittered with the idea of learning more, while Neville looked a bit dubious. Then he said, “oh, alright, but I’m going to need help to keep up.”

“Mr. Longbottom, you could take the course as an interest subject rather than for credit. That way you could do only the assignments you have time for, and not take the final exam.”

He looked mulish for a moment, then relaxed his face. “That’s a kind offer, Professor, but I don’t take on tasks that I don’t intend to see all the way through.”

“Can’t take the Gryffindor out of you, can we Longbottom?” sighed Malfoy.

“Before we make our final decision, I want to be sure of something,” and I turned to the rest of the group. “Are you okay with us joining you at this point? I mean you’ve already had two years at this stuff and we might hold you back for a bit, while we catch up.”

It was Ernie MacMillan who responded, “we already know that you guys work hard and I don’t reckon that it will take you long to catch up. Especially not with the way you worked together today. Also, I don’t mind helping you out some tutoring on Saturday afternoons—just until Quidditch starts.”

“That’s very kind of you,” I said. “Let’s see how we go, and we’ll get back to you if we need it. And the rest of you?” I swept my eyes around the room to see everyone nodding and smiling. Well, nearly everyone. For some reason Hermione didn’t look happy. I decided that I would try and catch up with her later and find out what was going on.

“Well Professor, it looks like you have three extra students. Could you please draw up a plan for us to cover the past two years’ work? Oh, and advise us what books to owl order?”

“Certainly Mr. Potter. I’ll put something together for you by lunchtime tomorrow, if you could come by then.”

I pulled out my timetable. “We have Charms just before lunch, so we can come past on our way down to the Great Hall.”

“Excellent. Alright everyone. You’ve put in some good work. Your only task between now and the class on Monday afternoon is to carry on learning the Devanagari alphabet. On Monday I will be covering the theory part of how the characters can be used.”

And we were dismissed.

“How much time have we got before dinner?” asked Justin.

“Ninety minutes,” said Neville.

“Good, let’s go to the library and see what we can find.”


	8. Books, Umbridge and a Nightmare

[End of last Chapter:

“How much time have we got before dinner?” asked Justin.

“Ninety minutes,” said Neville.

“Good, let’s go to the library and see what we can find.”]

Madam Pince directed us to the best place to look for books that cover the Northumbrian War and we grabbed an armful each and went to the nearest table. We started flipping through them.

Justin was the first to say something, “well, we now know the name of that Dark Lord, but I don’t think I could begin to pronounce it.”

“Do you think that’s why Binns never said it?” I asked.

“No,” said Neville. “According to this book, the anathema on his name was never lifted and those who actually say it can still expect a swift trip to the sixth circle of hell.”

“Most of these books are not helpful for what we want to know. They just repeat what Binns said or are obviously fables that grew up around the four. Like, ‘once their dread work was done, they sprouted wings and immolated themselves by flying into the sun.’”

“Really? I suspect it was much more prosaic. ‘They settled down and lived happily ever after,’ would be most likely,” I suggested.

Malfoy said, “this one’s even better. They were the reincarnation of Merlin, Arthur, Lancelot and Guinevere. Oh, not reincarnated; the four of them actually rose from their graves, solved the problems and then returned whence they had come.”

“Alright,” said Justin. “Let’s do a quick filter through each pile and see if there’s anything that’s reasonable.”

I’d had plenty of practice doing that, thanks to Hermione’s study habits, so I narrowed my pile down to a couple of slim volumes in about ten minutes. When I went to reshelve the rest, I spotted a book that had slipped sideways behind the next section of books (on the English Civil War). I pulled it out. It had a plain cover with a curious mark in the centre on the front. When I brushed my finger over the mark, I felt a small tingle of magic. I felt challenged for a moment, and then it was okay. It was as if it was testing me and decided it didn’t object. However, I couldn’t open the cover of the book.

I took it across to where the others were sitting. “Guys, I feel like this book is important, but it won’t let me open it. Do any of you recognise the mark on the front?”

None of them did, so I explained what had happened when I touched it. They each repeated what I had done and felt the tingle of magic, but it still wouldn’t open.

“Let’s take it with us anyway,” suggested Justin. “We might be able to work out it out later. I agree that it seems to be important.”

I cast a tempus charm, then said, “we need to head down shortly. Better put the useless stuff back and then get Madam Pince to process the others.”

When she got to the strange book, she shook her head. “This doesn’t belong to the library, so I can’t check it out for you.”

“We found it tucked behind some other books in the History of War section. May we take it with us, anyway?”

She touched it briefly and snatched her hand back. “Certainly. It doesn’t belong here. It also doesn’t like women touching it. I firmly recommend that you do not leave this lying around but keep it in a locked space in your dorm room. I have seen this sort of thing before and it is not pleasant when people who shouldn’t handle them do so.”

Well, as Alice would have said, curiouser and curiouser. We got back to our room and Neville offered to lock the book in a secret partition he had in his trunk.

When we reached the Great Hall there was a small group of people standing around the noticeboard looking at a large sheet of paper pinned to it. By squinting from the back of the group, I could make out the word ‘Degree’, but not much else.

“What sort of Degree is relevant to us? We’re not at University,” I muttered to Justin.

“Uh, it doesn’t say ‘Degree’. Rather it’s a ‘Decree’,” he replied.

“Damn eyesight.”

“Just how do you manage to play Seeker in Quidditch with your vision like that?”

I shrugged. “Don’t know, just one of those things.”

“When did you last have your eyes checked?”

“Checked?”

“You know, by an optometrist?”

I just looked blankly at him.

He sighed, then turned to Malfoy, “add that to the list, would you? Has never had his vision checked; current glasses are not the right prescription.”

I spluttered for a moment. “List, what list?”

“Don’t worry, Harry. It will all get sorted out,” that was Neville talking in a soothing tone and patting my shoulder. “Here is not the place for this discussion.”

We entered the Great Hall and sat in what had become our places at the Ravenclaw table. A couple of minutes later, Dumbledore entered and made his way to his seat at the Head Table, clapped his hands once and sat down. At which point the platters all filled with food. At other places on the table there were a wide range of fried food, but just where we were was slices of turkey, a bowl of salad greens with a light dressing and another with cheesy potato croquettes. There was also a small pot of cranberry sauce hidden between the turkey platter and the bowl of salad

“Just when did you have time to sort this out with the house elves?” asked Malfoy. “You’ve been with us all day.”

“I cut my run short this morning and stopped by the kitchen to have chat with Dobby. You didn’t notice at lunch, because all the non-vegetarians got chicken salad.”

We shook our heads, then gratefully helped ourselves to the food on offer. I for one was relieved that I wouldn’t have to eat the fried food. It didn’t go well for me this early in the year.

When we’d taken the edge off our hunger, I asked what the ‘Decree’ had said.

Malfoy shook his head and said in a flat voice, “it announces the appointment of Professor Umbridge as High Inquisitor of Hogwarts.”

I opened my mouth, but all three of them shook their heads at me. “Don’t say anything right now. Too many ears listening that are attached to flapping tongues,” Malfoy was still using a flat voice.

The platters of food emptied and were replaced with desserts. We had Greek yoghurt and fruit salad, while the rest of the table seemed to have a series of suet puddings. There were several envious glances at us from our house mates who obviously felt that stodgy puddings on top of fried food were not what they wanted.

As the tables cleared again, Dumbledore rose and walked across to the podium.

“It has been brought to my attention,” and here he turned and nodded at Umbridge, “that a new Educational Decree has been made. It has been posted on the noticeboards in your common rooms and on the main noticeboard beside the points hourglasses. It is recommended that you all read it and become familiar with its contents. You are dismissed for the evening. Sleep well.”

As I stood, I caught Hermione’s eye and looked questioningly at her. She nodded and I turned to the others. “I need to catch up with Hermione for a conversation.” I could see their chests swelling and forestalled them by saying, “it’s okay. I’m not going to talk about any of our stuff. I just need to find out why she was unhappy this afternoon about us joining the Runes class. There’s likely to be some extra fluffy stuff around it, which will only frustrate you to hear. So it’s best if I do it by myself.”

They nodded agreement and Justin said, “that reminds me, we’d better let Flitwick know about you three taking the extra class.”

“You go and talk to Hermione, Harry. We’ll catch Flitwick and let him know,” said Neville.

I nodded and made my way past the milling students to the door where Hermione was waiting for me. “Walk down to the Lake and back?” I asked and offered my arm.

“Sounds good,” she said as she hooked her arm in mine. “You know, walking like this will start rumours.”

“What do you mean?”

“That we’re courting or dating or something like that.”

“Urgh. Uh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I—I—just ...”

“Relax Harry, I know. You and me are like the brother and sister we never had.”

I nodded enthusiastically and babbled, “yes, yes, exactly. Sister.”

“And that’s why I’m worrying about you right now.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve very quickly become close to Neville, Justin and even Malfoy.” I drew a breath. “No, let me finish. You know how much Malfoy has done to you and to me, so I can’t see or understand how you can become friendly with him so easily.”

“Yes, I can see that it seems odd to you, but let me tell you a couple of things he’s done already for me.” And I told her about him getting me Dreamless Sleep when he found out I hadn’t slept through the night for nearly three months. And I also pointed out to her that the _Potter Stinks_ badges from last year had actually been Ron’s idea, even though Malfoy had brought the idea to fruition.

“And, look, Ron was pretty horrible to me for a good part of last year. While I haven’t forgotten, I have forgiven him. And given he was supposed to be my best mate, in some ways what he did was far worse than anything Malfoy ever did to me, or you.”

“But what about ...”

I cut her off, “and remember Hermione, I’ve got to share a room and bathroom with him for the rest of the school year. If we keep attacking each other, like we were doing, life is going to be horrible for both of us as well as Neville and Justin. I’m not going to forget that he’s a self-glorifying up-himself prat, but I still need to get on with him—and him with me.”

By now we were walking along the edge of the lake. “We’d better turn back, before the gloaming fades awa’.”

She laughed. “Harry, that was a terrible attempt at a Scots accent. You should be glad that Professor McGonagall didn’t hear that. But, yes, we should turn back. I need to write that essay on murtlap for Professor Snape.”

“Oh, so he did assign it to you guys as well. I was wondering if he would. Seamus’ hand seems to be a lot better. Or, at least, he was coping in Herbology today with sorting seed trays for aconite.”

“Harry, there’s one other thing I want to talk to you about.”

“Hmm?”

“That story Professor Binns told us today.”

“About Grobwitt and his three wives?”

“Sort of, but more about the four wizards that Grobwitt trained and went on to defeat Mtsv …”

I stopped her quickly. “Don’t even attempt to say that name. The anathema never got lifted. Didn’t you notice that even Binns only referred to him obliquely.”

She shook herself, then went on. “I was on the other side of the shelves from you this afternoon when you were looking up the Northumbrian War and I couldn’t help but hear some of your conversation.”

“Hermione, I can’t talk to you about any of that, because we ... I don’t understand the details yet.”

“I could help you research,” she started.

“No,” I said firmly. Then I tried to soften it by saying, “look, you’ve already helped by teaching me some of your techniques. It only took me ten minutes to sift through a pile of books and work out which ones would actually be useful. I couldn’t have done that without your training.”

“Mr. Potter and Ms. Granger,” was heard in sweet, girlish tones as we come back in through the open main doors. “I was wondering where you might have gone. It is highly irregular for two people from different houses and of the opposite sex to wander in the dark.”

“Professor Umbridge, how delightful to see you.” And I smiled, in what I hoped was a similarly sweet manner. “It is such pleasant evening that we decided to take a short walk to assist with digesting our most delicious dinners. I find that the braw air of Scotland is most efficacious in this, and I heartily recommend it to you. In fact, should you be at a loose end another evening, I would be more than happy to accompany you on such a stroll.”

She looked stunned for a moment, then started to blow up much like the toad she already appeared to be, but I had already turned to Hermione and addressed her in Bulgarian, as I knew she was still corresponding with Viktor. “Скъпа моя сестро, вечерта трябва да приключи. Ще се видим утре. Лека нощ.” [My dear sister, the evening must come to an end. I will see you tomorrow. Good night.]

She replied with a smile, “сбогом.” [Au revoir]

We then left the Hall in opposite directions. When I reached the Ravenclaw common room, a vigorous debate was going on as to what the role of High Inquisitor really meant.

Cho turned to me when I came in, “Harry, what do you think? Is she going to take over from Dumbledore and run the school?”

I sighed. “Look, I’m the last person you should ask. You saw what happened on Tuesday just because I was sitting in the classroom. I can’t get involved.” And with that I went past them and up to our room.

Malfoy and Neville were at their desks writing busily and Justin came up soon after me. “You alright, Harry?” he asked.

“Not really,” and I told them of the encounter with Umbridge. I also explained what was biting Hermione and her offer to assist with research. “I gave her a firm ‘no’ on that, but that probably won’t stop her.”

Neville chimed in, “no, so we need to bring out our Slytherin aspect and occupy her with something completely different.” Then he grinned. “So, which rumour shall we start? Think about it, and we can let it out over the next couple of days.”

“What’ve you been working on Neville?” asked Justin. “It’s not an essay, ’cause you’ve got no books open.”

I would never have noticed that detail.

“I’ve been outlining the paper that Sprout wants us to put together. One thing that I have learnt from Hermione is how to go about structuring an essay or paper. You know, put down the main headings, then sub-headings. Then you can fill in the content. It means you don’t leave anything out and helps to make sure that you’ve still got room for conclusions before running out of space.”

“Sounds good, what have you go so far?” and he pulled a chair over to Neville’s desk and the two of them started going through it. Which gradually drew Malfoy and I in as well as we listened to them and chipped in our thoughts from time to time.

By the time the curfew bell rang we had a pretty solid grasp of what we were going to say in the paper and all we would need to do is flesh out the paragraphs. We decided that Neville should have a first go at that because he knew the right terms to use, then each of us would take turns to read it and adjust wordings. We thought we’d be able to complete it by the end of the weekend and pass it to Professor Sprout in Herbology class on Monday.

I stood and stretched. “Right, I’m for my bed. But I should warn you, I’ll probably have nightmares again tonight. However, I did appreciate being able to get two nights in a row of full sleep. Thanks for that, Malfoy.”

He nodded back and, after using the loo and doing my teeth, I went behind the curtains and climbed into bed. I put the silencing charms up. I used a Level Eight one this time and wove its edges into a couple of Level Six charms. Not many people can cast Level Eight charms without courting magical exhaustion and I guess I’m no different as I fell asleep very quickly.

Deep blue spell light shot across my shoulder from behind and formed into a bubble around Wormtail as he made his way across the graveyard towards me and Cedric. Wormtail screamed in pain as his crucio bounced back from the bubble and struck him full in the face. As he fell to the ground the tip of his wand touched the mark on his forearm and the sounds of apparition followed as multiple death eaters arrived.

“Avada kevadra!” was heard from several throats and the graveyard was lit by multiple criss-crossing beams of bilious green. Beside me Cedric fell dead once more as I screamed “Expelliarmus!” followed by “Accio wands.” Several sailed towards me and fell in an untidy pile at my feet.

Over to one side, the thing was dropped into the water of the cauldron and immediately reappeared as Voldemort rising through the steam. He stepped out on to the ground and waved off the fawning death eater who approached him carrying a robe. He then walked towards me with his junk on display with an increasing erection the closer he got to me.

“Go on Harry, touch it, fondle it, lick it. You know you want to. Suck it. It’s been so long since I’ve had lips, any lips, entertain me—and what better than the sweet young lips of you, my dear friend.”

I thrashed about in the ropes binding me to the gravestone, desperate not to have that thing touch me. The deep blue light came from behind me and again formed a smooth bubble that surrounded Voldemort and forced him backwards and away from me.

“Harry?” I wasn’t sure who it was calling my name, but I didn’t dare answer or take my eyes off Voldemort. He went to get his wand from the bundle of cloths that Wormtail had brought him in and gave a cry of rage when he realised it wasn’t there but was in the pile at my feet.

He attempted to summon his wand, but I had already thought of that and had shielded the pile with a small amount of my magic. He attempted to storm across the space between us when a shield sprang up. The shield was made of the faces of those he had killed: Cedric, the old man, the missing woman from the Ministry, Mum, Dad, two young men who looked like Fred and George, …

“Harry,” it was Flitwick’s voice. What was he doing here? I dared one quick glance over my shoulder. Justin, Neville and Draco were there, as was Snape and a large group of men all standing with their wands held up channelling power into the shield.

“Harry, come back to us.”

Suddenly the whole scene collapsed in on itself and I sat bolt upright staring at nothing. After a couple of moments, I realised that I was in my bed in the Ravenclaw dorm. Flitwick was there, standing on a chair beside my bed. The three guys were also standing there. All four had worried looks on their faces.

I looked up at my silencing charms, but as far as I could tell they were still intact.

“It’s okay, Harry, you didn’t break them tonight. In fact, they are so well done that even Professor Flitwick couldn’t break them. Only you can take them down,” said Justin in a reassuring tone of voice.

“So, how?” I asked.

“Your usual time for nightmares is between one and two in the morning,” said Neville. “So, I set a personal alarm for one o’clock and came across to check on you. When you started whimpering, I tried to wake you but couldn’t. You then yelled ‘expelliarmus’ and ‘accio wands’ and our three wands came across to you. I think that’s what woke Justin and Malfoy.” They nodded.

I looked down and saw their wands on the end of my bed. “Whoops, sorry about that.”

They shook their heads, “don’t worry about that. But that’s when we called Professor Flitwick, who managed to call you back.”

I fell back on to my pillow. I felt exhausted.

“Mr. Potter, can you remember what was happening when you summoned the wands in your dream?”

“A whole lot of death eaters had just apparated into the graveyard and the death curse was being flung around a lot. Cedric got caught in the web and I was so pissed off that I just yelled expelliarmus then accio’d the wands while they were in mid-air.”

“So, it wasn’t a duel and you didn’t use your wand to get them?”

“No, I was tied with ropes to a gravestone, so couldn’t get to my wand.”

“How did you stop the wands being taken away?”

“I put a small bit of my magic into the ground under them that acted like a magnet.”

“Do you think you could take your magic back into yourself?”

I looked puzzled at him.

“Your roommates can’t pick up their wands up from your bed.”

Neville reached out towards his wand but couldn’t get his hand closer than three feet away.

“Oh.” I sat up again and reached out and felt around that area of the bed. It took a while for me to find it, but I eventually touched something warm and familiar that was happy to return to me.

“Try again.”

All three of them were able to pick up their wands and the look of relief on their faces made me feel guilty.

“Each of you, cast a Lumos,” ordered Flitwick. “Did that feel normal, or different?”

“Just as usual, sir,” said Justin and the others agreed.

“Good. Wands are tricky things when they’re taken off a wizard or witch unexpectedly.”

“Harry, when you were thrashing around and crying out ‘no’, what was going on?” asked Neville.

“Riddle was trying to make me suck him off.”

“Urgh! I wish I hadn’t asked.”

“He was driven off with deep blue spell light. Actually, the deep blue spell light happened three times.”

“Deep blue?” that was Malfoy. “The same blue as our magic?”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that. Yes, that’s it exactly.”

“Alright, gentlemen, it’s half-past two and well time to return to sleep. Anaï.”

In response to the last a house elf appeared and said, “yaas Maaster Flittywick.”

“These gentlemen have awoken unexpectedly and need a cup of your special tea to help them go back to sleep. Would you be so kind?”

“Of caarse Maaster.” He flicked his left ear and a cup of steaming liquid appeared beside each of our beds. “Does thaat be aall Maaster?”

“Yes, thank you Anaï.”

And he vanished silently.

“Well, that accent was unexpected,” I said.

Flitwick just grinned and said, “now gentlemen drink up and I hope you sleep well for the remainder of the night.”

He helped me straighten up my bed again, then waited until we had all drunk our cups and settled down before departing for his own quarters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to resort to _Google Translate_ for the Bulgarian. If it needs correcting please let me know.


	9. A Successful Potion

**Friday 6 September**

I’m not sure what was in that tea that Anaï provided, but it certainly helped, and my dreams were ordinary ones. I woke again at quarter to six and took down the silencing charms. I could hear Justin getting up and decided to go with him for a run. I knew we had a gym session later, but I felt like I needed to do something to clear my brain before facing the day.

I poke my head out of my curtains. “May I join you this morning?”

“Of course,” and he had a genuine open smile.

I pulled on a t-shirt and a pair of shorts and we made our way quietly out of the building, then jogged gently down to the Quidditch Pitch again. Then went round once with alternating sprints and brisk walking; then did a second round at a medium pace, before making our way back to the castle.

As we came in, Umbridge was adding a new decree to the noticeboard. We looked at each other and Justin shook his head, so we quietly went over to the staircase and started back to our room.

“Hem, hem,” came from behind us. “Mr. Potter, Mr. Finch-Fletchley.”

Justin turned, “yes, Professor?”

“What are you doing up so early?”

“I am in the habit of taking some exercise every morning, ma’am, in the form of a run. Mr. Potter was kind enough to accompany me this morning. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we do need to attend to our ablutions before breaking our fast this morning. Our fellow students would prefer it if we do so, rather than have us sit beside them in our current somewhat sweaty state.”

With that he turned and joined me in ascending the remainder of the stairs until we were out of her sight.

“Phooof. Something’s got to be done there. I wonder what the new decree is.”

“Let’s check it in the common room as we go back in,” I suggested.

When we got there, there was only a couple of First Years waiting for their classmates to be ready to go down. They were each deep in their copies of _A History of Magic_. Yep, little Ravenclaws the pair of them, bless them. We went over to the noticeboard.

Educational Decree

No student may fraternise one-on-one with a member of another House.

By order,

High Inquisitor of Hogwarts

“Well, that’s my fault for going for a walk with Hermione yesterday evening. I wonder how the Patil twins are going to manage? One of them’s in Slytherin, isn’t she?”

“Yes, it also means that the Gryffindor Weasleys can’t talk to their brother. Nor can any other siblings who are in different houses.”

“She hasn’t thought this one through very well, has she?”

“I get the impression, she doesn’t think through anything,” he replied.

We went up to our room and showered quickly, then woke Neville and Malfoy. While we waited for them, I read through the instructions again for the Draught of the Living Death. It was only a single period, so making it in the time available was possible, but it would be tight, and I wanted to make sure I understood the steps so as not to mess anything up.

When the others were ready, we all trooped down to breakfast, picking up some of the First Years and a couple of Seconds who were new to Ravenclaw this year and had lost their way.

“Are you really Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy?” asked one of the Firsts.

“Yes, why do you ask?” I said.

“Well, my sister was here last year—she graduated—and she said to watch out when the two of you were near each other as you are always hexing each other. But you haven’t done that at all this week.”

Malfoy quirked an eyebrow at me and left me to answer. “Well, we have to share a room this year, you know. So, hexing someone who you then have to share a room with is awfully awkward, eh?”

“It doesn’t seem to stop the Fourth-Year girls, though.”

“What do you mean?” that was Neville.

“Well, they keep attacking Luna, don’t they?”

“Which one is Luna?” asked Justin.

It was Malfoy who replied, “the blond girl who mostly sits by herself at meals and is usually barefoot. She has radish earrings.”

“Why do they attack her?” I asked the kids.

“Because they think she’s strange. She’s not that bad, at least not to us. She was very kind the other day and helped us work out how to structure our essays for Transfiguration.”

“She was in my carriage on Monday on the Train. She wasn’t barefoot then,” I said.

“No,” came the reply. “It’s because they hide her shoes.”

“Sounds to me like a House Meeting is required,” said Malfoy. “I’ll talk to the Seventh Year Prefects and get one sorted for this evening.”

“Do we need to involve Flitwick?” asked Neville.

“Only if we can’t manage it within the House,” came the reply as we reached the Great Hall.

The young ones went down to the front of the hall and their places, while Malfoy went up to the top end of the table where the Seventh Years were sitting and had a brief conversation before joining us.

“We’re on for a full House Meeting after dinner. The only excuse for absence is to be under Pomphrey’s care or in detention. They didn’t know it was happening.

“Finch-Fletchley, what is this?” And he pointed to a bowl that appeared in front of him.

“Bircher muesli. Basically, it’s oats that have been soaked in apple juice overnight and then mixed with Greek yoghurt to give a more even texture. The house elves have enriched it further for us with some dried fruits and some extra protein. Try it. If it’s too thick for you, add some milk.”

Malfoy put a tiny amount on the tip of his spoon and tentatively tasted it. “Hmm, well it’s not horrible.” He took a larger spoonful.

“I really don’t think I’m going to manage to eat very much of this,” I said. “It’s very dense and I’m not used to eating very much.”

“Eat until you’re 80% full,” came Justin’s response. “We need to gradually build your appetite up. You need to be eating to be able to put on muscle.”

I ran out of steam after about another 5 spoonfuls. The others managed to eat most of their bowls. As they were finishing, the morning post arrived. Hedwig came with the owls and let me take a letter from her. She then looked around for her usual strip of bacon and looked most miffed to see that we didn’t have any. I offered her some fruit but was disdained. Malfoy rolled his eyes, then slid an owl treat across the table to me. Hedwig seemed happy enough with that and left to go and roost in the Owlery.

The envelope was in Sirius’ handwriting and I stuffed it into my bag to read later as it was time to head down to Potions.

As we filed into the Potions lab, Snape called out, “Finnegan, come up here and let me inspect your hand.” He poked and prodded it and got Seamus to take various positions. “Alright, you may brew today.”

He then addressed the class, “customarily I will use this period on Fridays to cover the theoretical aspects of what you will need to know to pass your OWL. However, because we missed brewing on Wednesday—for reasons beyond your control—you will spend this time brewing the Draught of Living Death. The instructions are on the board. Work in pairs.”

Justin immediately moved to work with Neville, leaving Malfoy and me to work together.

“Right,” said Malfoy. “Get a pewter cauldron half full of water and put it on a steady three-quarter flame. I’ll go and get the ingredients.”

He was back two minutes later. “If you slice the valerian root, I’ll work on powdering the Asphodel.”

“What thickness?”

“Oh, half a millimetre, if you can. The thinner the slices the better.”

“Alright,” and we worked steadily, while the water came up to a rolling boil.

“Good, just the right timing. Now, I’ll sprinkle the Asphodel across the surface like so. The water should calm instantly. Now, the infusion of wormwood.”

He poured three drops into the bottom of a ladle and plunged it into the middle of the cauldron and held it steady.

“Okay, now add the valerian slices, one at a time. Each one at a different point in the cauldron. Keep going until it turns royal blue.”

While I was doing that, he pulled out the ladle and rested it on a saucer he had ready. Then he grabbed a silver knife and was squeezing the sophorous beans to get their juice out.

“Pause a moment, Potter, that might be enough.”

We stared at the bubbling liquid for a minute as its colour slowly deepened.

“Good. Now glass stirrer and stir six times clockwise and once in the opposite direction. Let me know just before you do the seventh stir.”

“Now,” I said. And he scraped one bean into the cauldron.

“And again, 6 and 1.”

We did that 13 times and each time as I went to do the anti-clockwise stir, he scraped a bean in. The colour was gradually lightening and then suddenly went lilac. Malfoy grinned at that point. “That’s the perfect colour. Now the sloth brain.” He diced it quickly and scraped it all in.

“Keep it at a rolling boil for three minutes, then turn down the heat to one quarter.”

I looked up at the clock. We had ten minutes left in the class. We were going to make it, but it would be tight.

I turned the heat down at the right moment, then Malfoy picked up the stirrer and twirled it above the potion, but in the steam.

“You’re going to have to explain that at some point on a Wednesday afternoon,” I said to him.

He nodded, then slipped the stirrer into the potion, went half-way round in one direction. Then stopped completely, before reversing and went a quarter. Stopped again, then continued right round.

“Heat off,” he panted. “Vials?”

I produced half a dozen and he decanted using the ladle, which he cleaned first with a rag. We were labelling them just as Snape called out,

“Stop. Those of you who have completed the potion, please decant six vials, label them and place them on my desk. Those who are close to completing, place your cauldron in stasis. I will award marks based on how well you’ve done up to the point you reached. If your potion has not reached a lilac stage, or never went royal blue in the first place, evanesco the contents of your cauldron.”

To my surprise Seamus and Dean took vials up as well as us. It had been a bad year for them last year when they had been separated in different houses. They obviously worked well together, and I wondered if they had a magical affinity. I put the thought on my list of things to ask Justin about at a better moment.

Justin and Neville were one of the pairs who put their cauldron in stasis. “We didn’t quite get as far as putting the sloth brain in,” Justin said to us. “And while it’s not the perfect shade of lilac you guys got; I think we weren’t far off.”

Malfoy leaned over and took a look. “I think some of your valerian slices might have been too thick. Potter managed to get ours down to about half a millimetre, so that they were almost translucent.”

“You’ll need to teach us how to cut that thinly,” said Neville.

“Sure,” I nodded.

Snape came over just then and looked into their cauldron. “You needed to get more juice out of your sophorous beans, and your valerian slices were too thick. However, this is worth an Acceptable.” Then he went over to where Cho and Simone were. “Whatever made you dunderheads believe that this was close to completing? It looks like fairy vomit. Evanesco! Detention for both of you.”

“Sir,” it was Draco. “Would it be possible for Chang and Thatcher to serve their detention tomorrow? We have a full House meeting this evening.”

The girls looked surprised as they didn’t know about it yet. However, Snape agreed. “Ten thirty in my office tomorrow morning. Now, all of you get out and away to your Defence class.”

We made our way quickly up to the Defence classroom, meeting the other group on the way. There was none of the usual chatter between us as we walked and as we arrived Umbridge opened the door and stepped aside to allow us to go into the room and head for our assigned seats.

No one bothered to take out their wands, we knew it would be pointless, and we sat apathetically at our desks waiting for the class to begin.

The door closed and she went to the front of the classroom, gave us a smile that a goblin would be proud to possess, showing as many teeth as possible and said in her sweet little girl voice, “good morning class.”

We chorused back in our best primary school sing-song tones, “good morning, Professor Umbridge,” and her face took on a look of delight, that we had become obedient so early in the term

“Now, moving onto Chapter Two of our textbook. You will silently read the first section on how to hold a wand correctly when in defensive and offensive modes.”

Huh? I thought. There shouldn’t be any difference. But according to Slinkhard there was. And for the life of me, I couldn’t work out how you’d be able to switch quickly in a battle situation.

I tried to think back to McGonagall’s and Flitwick’s early lessons. I was sure we weren’t taught either of these. Then an image of the duel between Snape and Lockhart came to me. The offensive hold was what Lockhart was using when Snape disarmed him using expelliarmus. Snape’s hold had been exactly the same as Flitwick’s.

So, not only was Slinkhard a boring writer, he was a blowhard as well. Maybe it was a good thing she wouldn’t let us do any practical work—we wouldn’t gain anything useful by it.

I was still pondering over these things when the bell rang, and we were dismissed with the task to write a precis of the remainder of Chapter Two to be handed in on Tuesday afternoon.

We walked silently to Charms alongside the Hufflepuffs. No one wanted to be the first to say it, but in the end, Hermione couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“What a load of rubbish!”

General sounds of agreement without anyone identifiable saying anything came from the rest of us.

“Neither of those wand holds would be practical in any situation, least of all in a duel or a battle. A wand is not a quill, for goodness sake.”

“Hermione, chill. We all know.” That was Neville. “As to your next question, what are we going to do? Absolutely nothing.”

“But, ...”

“Nothing, Granger,” said Susan Bones. “We just appear to accept the situation as it is. We don’t make waves. You saw what happened to Finnegan, and in her eyes he’s just a bit player. We must protect the ones she’s really after.”

And with that she went into the Charms classroom, leaving Hermione blinking. The rest of us entered and went to the same desks we used on Tuesday.

“Good morning,” said Professor Flitwick after he had shut the door. He sent a locking charm at it that I’d never seen before. “I have just sealed the door so that no eavesdropping can be done through or around it for five minutes. I won’t be teaching you that charm unless you do an apprenticeship with me after you graduate with Outstanding NEWTs. What I’m going to say now is very important. I heard the end of your conversation, which means that it is very possible that others heard it also. You must not talk about such things in public parts of the school anymore. It is not safe to do so. Some of the portraits are gossips of the highest order and there are also listening spells being dropped in at various locations. I discreetly clear away those I detect, but I cannot do so with all of them. Ms. Bones is quite correct. Do not make waves.”

He flicked his eyes up to the clock, then said loudly in his teaching voice, “sometimes a summoning charm brings an object that you can’t catch. This means that you also need to learn a range of cushioning charms.”

And he started talking about the cushioning class of charms. The taxonomy of charms is not straightforward as some in the class did other things and yet were considered to be cushioning charms. The most extreme example of this Flitwick gave us is the one that’s used in house building in earthquake prone areas, where cushioning charms are used to join walls together.

“However, for your immediate purposes you need to learn three. One of them you should already be familiar with as we covered it in Second Year. Anyone?”

A few hands went up. “Mr. Stanton?”

“Uh, _pulvinum_.”

“Exactly, and from the look on everyone’s faces, you use it without thinking. Two points to Hufflepuff.”

He was right, I do use it without thinking. It’s the charm to make an uncomfortable chair easier to sit on. I also use it when leaning against a rock or a tree.

“The other two charms are _culcito_ and _circumeo_. The first of these makes a bigger version of the cushioning that pulvinum does, while circumeo causes objects to go around you. Have a quick scan through pages 34 and 35 of your textbook, then we’ll start practicing.”

As I read through the pages, I suddenly wondered who was going to be the nong who asks why a shield charm can’t be used instead. And Hermione’s hand went up. Oh, glory. Surely not.

“Yes, Ms. Granger?”

“I was just wondering why we wouldn’t use a protego instead.”

I quietly nudged Justin, and we rolled our eyes at each other, while Neville just stared at her as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. Then I heard Malfoy whisper, “what a nong.”

I put my hand up and Flitwick called on me.

“The purpose of learning cushioning charms today was stated to be because we might summon something to big or heavy to catch. If we used a shield charm, we wouldn’t receive the object. A cushioning charm allows the object to reach us.”

“Two points, Mr. Potter, for that concise answer. Does that help, Ms. Granger?” he asked in his mildest tones.

“Y-y-yes, Professor, thank you,” she stammered and went bright red at not having thought through something so basic.

“Now, you will have noticed that the wand movement is identical for all three charms. While this makes things simpler to remember, to get the correct result based on your intent you have to decide which word to use. Remember ‘intent, word, action, result.’”

He then had us practice the three charms for about ten minutes. Then, working in small groups we threw small pillows at each other and practiced the charms to enable them to reach us without hitting us. The four of us soon tired of that, so we made up a game where one would announce an object while they threw the pillow and the other three had to decide which charm to use. Then we paired into two teams and carried on doing the same thing. We swapped around our teams but found that every time the two of us in the pair doing the cushioning always chose the same charm without talking to each other.

Sometime later Flitwick clapped his hands to get our attention again. “You all seem to have got the idea. So, in the last twenty minutes, we’ll move on to double-casting. You’ll need to summon an object and cast the cushioning charm at the same time—particularly as the objects need to be in this room, so they won’t take long to arrive. This kind of double-casting is very useful in many situations, but particularly in duels and battles. Now, for safety reasons only one of you from each group may cast at a time. Make sure before you summon your object that no-one is standing in its path. That would most definitely be an unintended result and Madam Pomphrey would be most unhappy with me.”

We laughed with him and then chose a channel in the classroom. I went first and summoned a chair using accio and immediately cast culcito. I was only just in time as the chair was in my face before I expected it.

“Harry,” called Neville, “I think you need to use a lighter summoning charm. You automatically put too much power into accio.”

“Hmm, finite. I need to think about this. One of you have a go.”

Neville took my place while I put the chair back. Once I was out of the way he called out “accersio chair” and then “culcito”. The chair reached him half a second later, bounced off his chest and landed with a clatter on the floor.

Malfoy swapped in and tried accio with circumeo. That resulted in the chair sailing over his head and hitting the wall a few metres behind him. He almost got caught on the rebound, but Neville cast glaucus and stopped it in mid-air.

Justin then had his turn, trying the combination of accersio and circumeo. Either the accersio was too weak or the circumeo was too strong, but the chair fell short by about five metres.

“Alright, brainstorm time,” he said. “What are we doing wrong?”

“Well, I think Longbottom is right. Potter and I have just demonstrated that accio is too strong, at least in our hands. Accersio should be working, but it gave variable results.”

“What was that other one? You know, the one where the Latin means calling,” I asked.

It was Neville who remembered first. “Oh, I know, _devoco_.”

I took my place. “Devoco chair. Culcito.” And I was able to grab the leg of the chair as it sailed towards me and guide it to the ground, albeit upside down.

Neville had a go with the same combination and managed to direct the chair as it arrived to rest on the floor, but still upside down.

Malfoy’s second go was more successful. He used circumeo, but the chair still twisted and landed on its side.

“Hmm, I wonder,” said Justin, “if there isn’t an intent factor playing here. Let me try something.”

He took the caster place while we put the chair back again and he took a moment to think before casting. He also used circumeo. The chair landed beside him on two legs, wobbled for a moment, then fell on to its side.

“That was pretty close. What did you do that was different?” asked Neville.

“Intent,” came his reply.

“Huh? But we’re all using intent. Without it the chair wouldn’t even move.”

“Yes, but what was your intent? And did it change part way?”

“Ohh,” we all said.

“Well, derr,” I added. “So, in your last go your intent was to move the chair from down there to right beside you. Whereas mine was to get the chair first and then to land it.”

“Exactly. So, when your intent changed part way through the manoeuvre the chair got twisted.”

We had time for one more try each and we all managed to keep the chair upright in the air. Neville and Justin both landed it on all four legs at once, while Malfoy and I nearly did. His rocked in the right direction and stayed upright, while mine was tilted just a bit too far and fell in the other direction. Nonetheless, I was pleased with myself and knew that the next time I tried it would be fine.

Just then I heard an odd whistling noise from the other side of the classroom and looked up to see Hermione red with frustration as she was assailed by five chairs at once, all of which bounced off her and fell in an untidy heap on the floor at her side.

I flicked a glance at my roommates all of whom were desperately trying to keep a straight face.

“Why did that happen?” she almost howled.

Michael Davies, who was in her Hufflepuff group, sighed and said, “intent, I presume. You weren’t focused and so, instead of summoning one chair you got all of them that were in the sphere of your charm.”

However, I could see she was beyond listening to reasonable statements.

“Now, before I let you go for lunch,” squeaked Professor Flitwick. “Please hand in the essays I set you on Tuesday. If you haven’t completed it yet, you have until 5 o’clock this afternoon to get it to me. Any arriving after that time will be marked but will lose one grade per hour or part thereof. There is no new written work from today, but you should read up more widely than those two pages in the textbook on cushioning charms. There will be a class discussion on them on Tuesday. Now, off you go.”

As we left the classroom, I reminded the others that we had promised to call past Professor Babbling’s office to pick up the plan and book list for Ancient Runes. We detoured in that direction. The staircases were co-operative for once and we arrived just as the Seventh-Year class was leaving. There were only five of them and they had met in her office rather than the classroom next door. We trooped in after they had left and were met by a broad smile of welcome.

“Punctual to the time, gentlemen. This is very pleasing. Now, I’ve put together an individual package for each of you as you will need different things. This is simply a fact of Mr. Potter already knowing several non-Roman scripts. We covered Greek and Cyrillic last year, but I understand you have already learnt those scripts.”

“Yes, Professor. But I don’t know how to apply them runically, if that’s the right word.”

“It is. That’s okay, but you don’t need to spend time learning the alphabets, while Mr. Longbottom and Mr. Malfoy do.”

We looked at the schedules she had drawn up curiously.

“Really,” asked Neville. “You think we can cover all of the Year Three material in two weeks?”

“Oh, yes. A fifteen-year-old’s mind is much more developed than the average thirteen-year-old. And as you each have a subject that you are very proficient in, you already know how to learn efficiently. I would suggest, though, that you do take advantage of Mr. MacMillan’s kind offer to assist. Between him and Mr. Finch-Fletchley, we should get all three of you up to speed quite quickly.”

“Are the books on the list easily available by owl order?” asked Malfoy.

“All except one, which I’ve marked with a star. _Flourish and Blotts_ don’t usually carry it. However, _Tomes and Scrolls_ in the village do. You won’t need the book until after the first Hogsmeade weekend, so don’t worry about it until then.”

We thanked her, then headed for the Great Hall.


	10. A Goblin in the Gym

When we got to our places for lunch a bowl of chicken salad appeared, but there was also a large glass of something that was mostly cream coloured with flecks of orange and black through it in front of me. I quirked an eyebrow at Justin.

“Some guys who have problems eating enough calories find that drinking them is easier. So, I’ve organised a protein smoothie for you. Can’t work out how to make it taste like treacle tart,” he said with a grin, “but hopefully passionfruit will work for you.”

Oh, was my liking for treacle tart that well known? I sipped at the glass, not bad. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever tried passionfruit before. It’s kind of sweet and tart at the same time.”

I then remembered the letter I’d shoved in my bag, so I fished it out and read it while I was sipping at my drink.

> Pup,
> 
> Ravenclaw, huh? Well, that’s quite a change for you. At least it’s not Slytherin. I only had one year out of Gryffindor, and that was Third Year in Hufflepuff. Actually, now I think about it that was the year all four of us were in different houses. James, of course, stayed in Gryffindor, <strike>Remus</strike> Mooney went to Ravenclaw, and stinking miserable little Wormtail was in Slytherin. Don’t remember where Lily was that year.
> 
> I would have thought that Hermione would stay in Ravenclaw rather than go to Hufflepuff. Just shows you can’t predict what the Hat is thinking.
> 
> Mooney’s here at the moment, so I’m not alone in the house. I’m not sure though when he will be sent off on another mission. I’m not happy about those missions, but I do understand why they’re important.
> 
> You and Malfoy in the same room? Well, that’s awkward. I know he’s my cousin, but from what you’ve all said about him, he more takes after his father than the Blacks. So, be careful. Lucius was always prepared to ride over anyone who he thought was in his way to getting what he wanted.
> 
> Once he decided he wanted Narcissa, he scared off anyone who showed an interest in her. I have strong recollections of a hex war in the corridors at school when he discovered that Rosier was hanging around.
> 
> Anyway, Mooney says I need to leave some space for him to write on.
> 
> Hang in there, Pup. I’m going to try and get permission to come and see you soon.
> 
> Padfoot
> 
> _Dear Harry,_
> 
> _I bet Ravenclaw was a surprise to you when the Hat called that out. I’m sure you’ll do well there. I remember Finch-Fletchley from my year of teaching. He seemed a level-headed and good sort of chap. Between you two and Neville, you’ll be able to manage young Malfoy. I’m sure you’ve already come to an arrangement._
> 
> _The new Spell Creation course sounds fun (and you are quite right to avoid telling Hermione for as long as possible). I look forward to hearing about how it goes._
> 
> _Lots of love,_
> 
> _Mooney_

I took another sip at the smoothie and realised that the glass was empty. I’d finished the whole thing.

“Well done, Harry, you’ve just drunk 1600 calories, which means you’ve had about double what we’ve managed to eat.”

“That’s possibly more than I’ve ever eaten in one sitting, even with the way Mrs. Weasley tries to feed me up.”

Malfoy was sitting beside me, reading his own letters, so I couldn’t see his face, but I did see the eyes of the other two flick across to him. He nodded, then returned to his letter.

On our way out of the hall towards afternoon classes, Malfoy said to me, “thank you again for letting me know about our house guest. Mother has written back to me and while she didn’t say anything about it directly, I can tell that she is not happy with the situation.”

“I don’t want to imagine what living with him would be like. It would be ‘unpleasant’ for want of a better word.”

He snorted. “I’m sure there are better words, but they are probably better not said.”

We separated then to go to Divination and Arithmancy. A double period of Trelawney to look forward to. Oh joy!

I’d rather not talk about that Divination class. It was pretty dire, what with Parkinson and Lavender giving little screams and making cow-eyes at each other every time the glass on the Ouija board moved. There were three boards set up. Ours, that is Neville, Ron, Bulstrode, Adams, me and Dean, didn’t spell out anything that made sense in any language. But both of the others successfully predicted my death again. I suspect there was some pushing going on. And the whole thing went on for two bloody hours. I think our table was very relieved to be climbing down the ladder at ten to three.

We met up with Justin and Malfoy outside the gym entrance again and headed into the changing room. A couple of minutes later we were in the gym proper and went across to one of the open areas to get warmed up.

“Ah, there you are. Filius said you’d be in about now. I’m his brother, with the unfortunate name of Stagnant. Quite what my mother was thinking of when she named me, no one knows, least of all her. However, at least it’s unique. I doubt there’s another male on this planet with the name. Now, Filius said you have a magical affinity and that you want to turn yourselves from weedy, rat-faced teenage males into well-muscled, gorgeous hunks that have to fight off the girls and guys who just want to get close to you.”

He hopped up on a nearby weight bench, lifted one leg so that his ankle was resting on his knee, then barked out: “You,” pointing at Justin, “drop and do twenty.”

He promptly dropped to his hands and feet and easily knocked out twenty push-ups.

“Now, one-handed.”

That was more of a struggle and he had to give up at eight.

“You,” and he pointed at Neville. “Ten star-jumps.”

Neville just looked blankly at him.

“Like this, Neville,” and I demonstrated one.

He went for it gamely but was somewhat uncoordinated.

Stagnant then pointed at Malfoy, “sit ups. You—stand so that you have your feet on the outside of his.” He flicked a finger at me and suddenly I had large pads on my hands. “Now, sit up and while you’re at the top, cross punch the two pads, then go back down again.”

Malfoy went for it and got to 15, before he had to give up.

“Alright, what did you do for your workout on Wednesday?”

Justin ran through the list of chin-ups, farmer carries, bench press, squats and triceps pressdowns.

“Hmm, reasonable start. However, you two bony boys need a different programme to what the chunky boys need. However, I need a better idea of what I’m working with here.”

He clicked his fingers and a cubicle appeared around him and the bench he was sitting on.

“Come in, one at a time. I want to look at you properly.”

Justin went first and reappeared a couple of minutes later blushing. “As you go through the door, you’ll find yourself completely naked.”

“What?” whispered Malfoy. “That’s not going to happen.”

“Malfoy? Get in here now,” called the goblin from inside his room.

Malfoy was startled enough to walk straight in, then reappear also blushing. “That was weird,” was all he would say.

Neville went in next then wandered out again, seemingly unfazed.

“And Potter,” was heard. So, I squared my shoulders and headed in. As I walked through the door, I felt a downblast of magic that did indeed leave me naked in front of Stagnant. More worrying for me was that it also stripped off all my glamours.

“It’s alright, Potter, humans don’t turn me on. Now, turn around. And on round. Lift your arms straight above your head. Hmm. Here, prick your finger with that and let one drop of blood fall on to this.” He handed me a bodkin and laid out a piece of parchment. As the drop fell, I could see it separate out into hundreds of tiny droplets that then landed across the full length of the parchment.

Stagnant let out one word in Gobbledegook, then looked up at me before looking at the parchment again. He repeated the word three more times. Then waved at me to head out again to join the others. As I went across the doorway, the same magic rose up around me and restored everything exactly as it was—glamours and all.

He followed me out and, as he left the door, the room dissolved and vanished.

“Right, it’s as I thought. You and you are skinny runts and will need to build up your strength before you can put muscle on.” (That was me and Malfoy he was pointing at.)

“Whereas you two are going to put muscle on easily and will have to guard against bulking to much around here,” pointing at his midriff.

“Malfoy and Potter, I’m going to borrow a leaf from the _Bony to Beastly_™ boys and we’re going to train you with full body workouts every time. Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley, you’ll be doing alternating upper body and lower body workouts. You’ll be working together in those pairs, so that while one of you doing an exercise, the other is resting and then you’ll swap over. And I expect you to be encouraging each other.

“However, it’s going to take me some time to set it up, so your first proper workouts with me will be on Monday. In the meantime, let’s put you all through a Stagnant workout.” And he grinned.

He had us warm up on treadmills for three minutes walking at 5 kph and then jogging at 10 kph, then he flicked his fingers and they jumped to 20 kph and we had to run to stop ourselves being thrown off the back. They were then slowed to 3 kph for us to walk out for another minute.

We then moved to a floor space and we each had to do 20 push-ups in as many sets as it took. I managed a ten and two fives. Justin, of course, did his in one set. Neville got 15 in his first, so easily got five for the second. It was Malfoy who struggled, but eventually got there in his sixth set with all three of us cheering him on.

It was then onto dumbbell flies, this time in our pairs. Three sets of 10 each. Then the same with cable rows. Just light weights, though. Stagnant said that this was about learning the movements, rather than worrying about setting records.

Push-ups again, then we each grabbed a 10 kg dumbbell, held it up against our chest with both hands, and squatted so that our thighs went below parallel. That bit was okay, it was standing up again that was the problem. I overbalanced a couple of times and landed on my bum until I learnt the technique of leaning forward just a little.

“Now that you’ve got the movements right, you need to learn to breathe.”

What? I’m sure I was breathing, in fact I’m sure I’ve been breathing since I was born. My face must have shown my thoughts.

“No, no, no. There’s a correct way to breathe when you’re doing these exercises. Breathe out as you descend, then breathe in as you come back up.”

We tried that, and by the end of my second set of eight, I found the movement much easier to manage.

“Right, leg extensions now.”

This was an odd-looking machine where we lay face down with our middles slightly raised and a roll was over the back of the ankles. We then needed to bend our knees and try to touch our heels to our butts. After that we had to slowly straighten our knees back to the starting position. Sounds easy enough, until some weight was added to the side of the roll. Stagnant wouldn’t let us go past 20 kg, as it was only about the movement.

Once we’d done two sets each, he took us over to a pair of machines he called a pec deck. He helped set them up and made a note of the settings for each of us. I needed a wider setting on the arm pads than Draco, while Neville and Justin had different seat heights.

He then set the weights at 20 kg and we took turns to try to pull our elbows together ten times and then hold the last one for ten seconds.

“Potter, don’t forget to breathe. It’s a useful thing to do.”

I realised that I’d been holding my breath through several reps in the effort to concentrate on the movement.

“Okay, that’s it. Unless you want to have quads that are so sore tomorrow and Sunday that you can’t even sit on the toilet, you will go and use some foam rollers to roll out your leg muscles. You should expect your chest muscles to feel a little sore, but it’s the squats that are leg killers until you get used to them.”

Fortunately, Justin had already shown us how to do it when we were in on Wednesday, so we didn’t look like complete prats.

We then hit the showers. Malfoy chose one several down from us, while we three went into next door ones and chatted over the noise of the water. I noticed that Neville was careful to get a good look at Justin’s equipment without Malfoy noticing.

We got dressed, then headed for our room to relax until dinner time. Justin and Malfoy started a game of Chess, while Neville and I played Exploding Snap. As Malfoy said the other day, you can’t take the Gryffindor out of the boy.

We also got our owl order sorted out for the books we needed for Runes. We decided that we’d share some of the books but have separate copies of the workbooks so that we could write in them. Hedwig turned up at one of our windows just as we finished and happily took all three orders.

“You know, I don’t understand how she knew to come just then. In previous years I had to traipse up to the Owlery to get her to send a message.”

“I think that as you become more in tune with your magic, she becomes more responsive to your needs,” suggested Justin.

Malfoy gave a hum of agreement as he pondered his next move. Then, after watching his knight destroy one of Justin’s pawns, he added, “remember that she has bonded to you as your familiar. That means that she needs your magic to reinforce her magic. While owls are highly intelligent, they don’t have a big magical core. That’s also why she perches on your shoulder sometimes and requests affection. That’s her keeping the bond alive.”

Neville piped up. “It’s also like House Elves, they also need the bond maintained. That’s why they’ll stay with a bad master, instead of running away like a human would. It’s the bond that powers their magic.”

“But what about free elves?”

“Dobby is an anomaly. You could see how badly affected Winky was and still is, by all reports. She can’t do anything about her situation because the bond was broken. The only way she’ll be able to function again is to bond with a new master.”

“But all the Crouches are dead, so she would have lost her master anyway.”

“No, Potter, she belonged to the family. She would have been passed on as part of the inheritance and would have a new master that way.”

“Okay, I get that.” I sat back just in time as one of Neville’s cards matched and the deck went up. “So, how is that Dobby is functioning fine?”

It was Neville who replied. “Well, I’m not so sure that he is without a master. In fact, I think he has two.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, the other night when you had that panic attack, he came when Draco called him. So that suggests that he still has some loyalty to the Malfoy family, right?”

“Actually,” drawled Malfoy, “he was my principal carer once I reached the age of six and got my own bedroom.”

“So, when I tricked your father into giving him my old sock, he was freed from the family, but it was the bond with your magic that had been supporting him for the previous six or so years, and that bond was never broken.”

Justin asked, “so Neville, what do you mean two masters? We’ve established why Draco would still be his master. How does that leave room for a second?”

“Well, think about it. Dobby was suddenly free of the family influence, but it was only a week or so before the end of term. Draco went home and a new elf was assigned to looking after his room. He had his thirteenth birthday soon after and therefore reached his first majority. In Pureblood circles, that means that he was responsible for getting himself ready for things and was no longer dependent on someone else doing it for him. By the time he came back to school, Dobby was working in the kitchens here but never saw, let alone touched, Draco. This weakened the bond. Only Draco can break it by repudiating the bond, but with the bond weak there was room for a second bond to form.”

I suddenly realised where this was going. “No, Neville, he hasn’t formed a bond with me.”

“Hasn’t he?” was the gentle reply. “He answers when you call him. He gets a boost in his magic when you pat him on the shoulder. He would do anything to get a word of praise from you. He is bonded to you. As I said, he’s an anomaly.”

“So, what happens if Draco restores his bond to its former strength?” asked Justin. “Does that cause Harry’s to weaken?”

“No, married couples will often both have strong bonds to a single elf. This is analogous to that situation.”

“Alright, so is there a reasonable solution to Winky’s situation?” I asked. “One that’s within our control?”

“I see three possibilities. One of us takes her on; we persuade Hermione that she needs one; or, we work on Arthur Weasley to bond her to him and Molly.”

Justin quickly said, “I don’t think any of us has got time to rehabilitate a House Elf. I also don’t feel I’m ready for the responsibility.”

“And I don’t think we’ve got the time or the energy to work on Granger, particularly with her elf rights crap.”

“Alright, I’ll talk to the twins tomorrow or Sunday and see what they think about the best way to go about getting Arthur on side,” I said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Bony to Beastly_ is a real muscle building programme that's designed to help skinny men add muscle. They have a sister programme for women called _Bony to Bombshell_.


	11. The House Meeting

During dinner the Ravenclaw prefects went down the full length of the table to make sure that everyone understood that they were to return to Ravenclaw Tower immediately following dinner for the House Meeting.

There was considerable chatter with people wondering what it was about. No-one could remember the last time that they’d heard of Ravenclaw having a House Meeting. Slytherin, yes, but not Ravenclaw.

When we were released from dinner, we all made our way up to our Common Room in a few groups. Once everyone was settled on the various chairs and rugs that were available, the head girl started.

“A serious case of bullying was brought to our attention this morning. As a result, we have called this meeting of the full House of Ravenclaw. All situations in which bullying is involved are not acceptable at Hogwarts. And while you may occasionally hear of it happening between houses, it should never happen within a House. And particularly not in Ravenclaw, where we understand and value difference. And now I call upon Mr. Malfoy to present the case and evidence.”

Draco stood, bowed to Rowena’s statue, nodded his thanks to Charlotte, then turned to address the House.

“Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed members of the House of Ravenclaw in this year of nineteen hundred and ninety-six of the Common Era, I bid you listen impartially to this telling and then decide whether you have been told correctly or not.

“One of our members resident in the Chambers reserved for Fourth Year students is not infrequently seen in a bewildered state due to having apparently misplaced her books, or quills, or shoes, or other parts of her uniform.”

I had never seen Malfoy in full flight like this before. He reminded me of one of the characters I’d seen in the glimpses of _LA Law_ I’d managed over Uncle Vernon’s shoulder when mopping the floors.

“The real problem is not that she has misplaced these items, but that other people have taken them and hidden them, because they think it fun to tease and bully someone who is different to them.

“Now, ladies and gentlemen, I do not expect you to accept these statements on my word only. This is the House of those who thirst after knowledge, after all. And so, I will present to you evidence of these misdoings.

“I call first upon Ms. Langridge.”

A small girl stood up. I recognised her as one of those from this morning’s group.

“Ms. Langridge, would you please tell the assembled members of your House what you observed yesterday evening?”

“As you all know, this year the Chambers for the Second-Year students are on the same corridor as those for the Fourth Year. I was going to our room to get my potions textbook. When I passed the Fourth-Year girl’s room, I noticed the door was open, so I looked to see what sort of room it was. I was then that I saw someone taking some quills out of the drawer of a desk and placing them on top of a wardrobe on the other side of the room.”

“Can you tell us who that person was?”

“Yes, it was Ms. Edgecombe.”

There was an immediate outcry from Chang and Thatcher as well as Edgecombe. Malfoy just waited them out with a blank look on his face and it was Charlotte who called them to order.

“Ms. Langridge, do you know who the quills belong to?” he asked her gently.

“Usually I wouldn’t, but one of them was a griffin’s feather. The only person I’ve seen with a quill made from a griffin’s feather is Ms. Lovegood.”

“Thank you, Ms. Langridge. You may resume your seat.”

“Might I have the floor?” It was Edgecombe asking.

“Not right now, as I have been granted it. You will have your opportunity later,” was Malfoy’s response in his politest tones.

“I now call upon Mr. Potter.”

I was startled, to say the least, but stood and acknowledged the gathered people.

“Mr. Potter, I believe you told me that you shared a compartment with Ms. Lovegood on the Hogwarts Express on Monday.”

“Yes, that’s right,” wondering where he was going.

“Could you please describe how Ms. Lovegood was dressed?”

I felt bewildered, but racked my brains for a moment, then brought up an image of Luna reading her _Quibbler_. “She had boarded the train wearing an A-line skirt made of several different colours in a swirling pattern. Her blouse had a mustard coloured background and was highly embroidered with various animals from Newt Scamander’s book.”

“And on her feet?”

“Oh, I think a pair of brown sandals. When the train was approaching Hogsmeade she left the compartment with the other witches and returned wearing her Hogwarts robes. She had changed her shoes to black brogues.”

“Thank you, Mr. Potter. I now call upon M. Laplace.”

A Fourth-Year boy stood up.

“M. Laplace, when you attended your classes on Tuesday, how was Ms. Lovegood dressed?”

“She vos wearing a too small robe. It had ze look zat she had outgrown it.”

“And on her feet?”

“Ze sandals zat M. Potter mentioned. Professor Snape vos not happy and docked five points for coming to Potions in the attire inappropriate.”

“And on Wednesday?”

“She vos barefooted all ze day and still wearing ze small robes.”

“Thank you, M. Laplace. Ms. Patil, would you be so kind as to stand?”

She stood gracefully.

“Ms. Patil, I believe you were working in the library on Wednesday evening between dinner and curfew.”

“Yes, that is correct.”

“Would you please relate what you saw and heard at the next table?”

“Certainly. I had just completed my essay on the properties of murtlap essence and was about to rise to return the books I had used as references when I heard a muffled sob. I looked up and saw Ms. Lovegood sitting at the next table with her back to me. Her frame was shaking a little. I recognised the movement as that associated with crying. I then observed two girls come around the corner of the shelves and stride over to where Ms. Lovegood was seated.

“Ms. Edgecombe was one of them and Ms. Chang the other. I then heard Ms. Edgecombe say, ‘Well, Looney, are you going to pull yourself together this year? Or, do we need to continue the treatment?’

“Ms. Chang attempted to hush her friend, but before she could Ms. Edgecombe reached out and flicked one of Ms. Lovegood’s earrings, ‘and start with getting rid of these ridiculous things. They’re just too weird for words. Much like you.’

“They then left and Madam Pince came by to advise us that there were only ten minutes left before curfew. I reshelved my books and then returned to offer to walk down with Ms. Lovegood, but she had left by then and this is the first time I have seen her since.”

“Thank you, Ms. Patil.”

Edgecombe was staring holes through Malfoy and was barely holding it together.

“I ask the House’s indulgence for one more witness and call upon Ms. Carthew.”

A tiny first year student hopped up from the rug she had been sitting on.

“Ms. Carthew, kindly tell us what you witnessed this morning.”

“I got lost trying to find the Transfiguration classroom and ended up going along the western corridor on the fourth floor where I saw Ms. Lovegood and a red-haired girl from the same year (I think she’s from Gryffindor). They were coming out of a classroom and the red-haired girl had her arm around Ms. Lovegood and was saying, ‘I’m sure we can fix it. Fred and George will know a spell that takes spilt ink off a book.’

“Ms. Lovegood replied, ‘not a whole bottle dumped down the binding and then magically forced through into the pages. It’s soaked through. And it’s one of the last things I have that was my mother’s.’

“I must have made a noise then, because they looked up and saw me. They were very kind and told me of the best way to get to the Transfiguration classroom and I was only three minutes late.”

“Thank you, Ms. Carthew. You may sit down again.”

And she dropped to the floor where she was.

“I have now called all the witnesses that I intended to. Before I move to the next stage of my presentation, I would like to state that I have not colluded with any of the witnesses and the only story I had heard in detail before tonight was that of Ms. Langridge who related it to me this morning on our way to breakfast.

“I wish to particularly note that both Mr. Potter and M. Laplace were surprised to have been called on. In fact, I randomly chose M. Laplace from Ms. Lovegood’s classmates. I have never knowingly spoken to him before this evening.”

“Zat is correct. I vos in Hufflepuff last year, and as you know zird year Hufflepuffs and fourth year Slytherins do not mix—particularly ven ze Hufflepuff in question plays not ze Quidditch.”

There were smiles on many people’s faces at that statement as they acknowledged the truth of it.

“I would call upon Ms. Lovegood at this point. However, she has indicated to me that she does not wish to speak because she does not wish to be personally responsible for anyone’s punishments other than her own. I do understand, though, that she has not yet located any of her four pairs of shoes or her school uniform robes for this year.

“I therefore call upon Ms. Chang and offer her opportunity to refute any of the statements that the House has heard so far this evening.”

Cho rose slowly to her feet and her face took on a pasty hue. “I’m unable to refute any of the statements. The reported events that took place in my presence have been described accurately. And there have been many other similar events over the past two years. I saw it as teasing and had not understood the cumulative impact it had. Thank you, Malfoy, for persuading Professor Snape to move my detention to tomorrow morning, so that I could be present tonight.”

“Thank you, Ms. Chang for your honesty. I now turn to the Fourth-Year women who share the Chamber with Ms. Edgecombe and Ms. Lovegood. Is there anything the four of you would like to add to the statements already heard?”

One of the girls burst in tears, another two shook their heads mutely, while Janice Rowle just muttered, “sorry Luna.”

“In that case, I call upon Ms. Edgecombe and relinquish the floor to her.” He bowed again to Rowena’s statue and took his seat amongst the Fifth Years. His face took on a look of bland interest.

She must have known that she could not possibly talk her way out of this, but still she rose to her feet, strode out into the middle and fearlessly started.

“Fellow Ravenclaws, you all know that House Unity is of utmost importance, and when one member of the House pulls in a different direction, then that Unity is strained. Looney has put huge strain upon the house with her unnatural ways, poor judgement in many situations, and failure to attend to the common decencies of living with fellow human beings.”

I could see that several people were blinking in surprise at this speech. Not only did she use an insulting name for Luna, but she was also accusing her of being different when Charlotte had opened the meeting saying that we value difference. What did she want? _Stepford Wives?_

It was Carl Rosier, the head boy, who spoke at that point.

“Ms. Edgecombe, you will immediately desist from naming Ms. Lovegood with that epithet. She does not exhibit any of the signs of madness that would engender such a name. As for your suggestion that she does not act in such a manner that is in accordance with the honour and unity of this noble house of Ravenclaw, I call bullshit.”

There was a titter from the younger members at his final word.

“This is fourth year that Ms. Lovegood has been in Ravenclaw, which is not something any other Fourth Year student can boast. None of the current Fifth-, Sixth- or Seventh-Year students matched that run either. If your claims about Ms. Lovegood are accurate, then you are saying that the Sorting Hat doesn’t know anything. Which would suggest that it made a mistake in placing you here.”

Charlotte took over, “however, we don’t believe that the Sorting Hat makes mistakes. Sometimes its decisions may seem odd, but there is always a reason that may not be apparent at the time. In my experience, later events have always shown it made the right decision. In this current situation, we may wonder why Ms. Edgecombe was placed with Ms. Lovegood for a third year in a row, when the Hat would have known of Ms. Edgecombe’s antipathy. However, tonight’s meeting is at least part of the reason.”

“Mr. Malfoy, you make take the floor again,” invited Carl.

“Thank you, Mr. Rosier. Fellow Ravenclaws, a decision now needs to be made. First, has the telling been true and correct? I ask you to raise one hand if you believe so.”

A forest of hands rose.

“Thank you. I ask you now to raise one hand, if you believe that truth has not been spoken.”

Not a hand went up.

“The second decision to be made is in respect of reparations. What should the five who are found to have perpetrated these acts of bullying be required to do? What should those who saw it happen, but turned a blind eye be expected to do?”

Laplace raised his lit wand and was given permission to speak.

“As you are no doubt avare, I vos at Beauxbatons before zis last year. Ven I vos zere, ve had a similar happening. Ze vons who made ze actions vere required to make ze apologies written to ze victim’s parents and to recompense to ze value of twice ze destroyed or damaged properties.”

Malfoy turned to Charlotte and Carl. “This being my first year in Ravenclaw, I am unaware if this would be considered a reasonable and fair recompense for the perpetrators to make. It certainly would be in Slytherin.”

“It also matches the values that Ravenclaw prides itself on,” was the response.

“And for those who turned a blind eye?”

Carl said, “it would appear that there are only two of those: Ms. Chang and Ms. Thatcher. We rule that they shall both make written apologies to Ms. Lovegood.”

“The third and final thing to be decided by the House, is appropriate punishment.” He went on to explain to the younger members the difference between reparation and punishment.

“Do you have a proposal, Mr. Malfoy?” asked Charlotte.

“I propose that the four Fourth Year women who were led into this behaviour lose the privilege of the first Hogsmeade Weekend of the year. And that this is also extended to Ms. Chang and Ms. Thatcher.

“And I propose that Ms. Edgecombe is shunned by the House for the duration of 36 hours. That is through to breakfast on Sunday morning.

“All of this is based on the assumption that Ms. Lovegood’s possessions are restored to her in a timely manner. In other words, the next half-hour.”

Carl and Charlotte put the proposals to the House, and they were agreed to. All the girls except Edgecombe accepted the decision. I understood what she was thinking having gone through an effective shunning from Gryffindor when my name came out of the blasted Goblet. However, it was a considerably shorter time than what I’d had.

Malfoy stood again. “Lady Hogwarts and Founder Ravenclaw, you have heard the decision of this House,” he cried out. “If you agree with it, kindly make provision.”

A shimmer of magic ran across the Common Room and a faint tinkling was heard. “Ms. Edgecombe, to make it easier on you and your roommates to carry out the shunning, Hogwarts has created a temporary bedroom for you. I do not know what she will have chosen to provide, but it won’t be a cell. The bedroom will vanish some time on Sunday morning. You do not need to move your possessions, as Hogwarts will look after all aspects.” Then he nodded his head to her, bowed to the head boy and girl, acknowledged Rowena’s statue, then resumed his seat.

Carl was about to call the meeting to a close when Professor Flitwick entered the room.

“Hogwarts has informed me of the outcome of your House Meeting and of the decisions made. Thank you all for dealing with this in such a mature manner. I would only add that I expect the decided reparations and punishments are deemed sufficient and that no further actions are taken for acts already punished. However, should anyone be found to bullying another person from this time onwards—in any form—I will be most displeased.

“Ms. Edgecombe, come with me and Ms. Trenery to locate the missing properties and thus restore them from their hiding places. Mr. Rosier, please hold the House in meeting for a further fifteen minutes to allow this to happen without interruption or curious eyes.”

As the three of them left the room Justin raised his lit wand and Carl gave him permission to speak.

“Ms. Carthew’s story has made me realise that so far this year, us older students have assumed that the First-Year students are managing to find their way around the Castle. This is an unfair assumption, given that when we were in their position the senior students in our Houses ensured that we learnt our way around. I propose that each Chamber of students from the Sixth Year is assigned a Chamber of First Year students to assist with this and to help with learning how to do their assignments.

“I further propose that each Fifth Year Chamber is assigned a Second Year Chamber to assist with their learning. Yes, I know it’s our OWL year and that we will be busy but revising the basics will stand us in good stead.

“I don’t know what sort of workload the NEWT students are facing, so am reluctant to suggest that they take on any formal tutoring. However, I do propose that they each make themselves available once a week to all students from First to Fourth to assist with any matters that they don’t understand.”

Carl looked to the Sixth-Year prefects, who nodded. He then raised a silencing spell around him and his fellow Seventh Years. They had a brief conversation.

“Mr. Finch-Fletchley, your proposal has considerable merit and indeed I too had forgotten that I received considerable assistance as a junior student in both Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. Therefore, I put the proposal to the House. Please raise one hand if you agree with this proposal.”

Every junior student and most of the seniors raised their hands.

“And those who disagree?”

Some of the Fourth-Year students raised their hands along with one Sixth Year. This last was offered the opportunity to speak.

“It is not the concept of assisting the junior students with finding their classes that I am objecting to. More it is the helping with assignments. I am concerned that if help is provided then the marks the student receives will not reflect their own learning.”

Justin raised his lit wand again.

“May I clarify this aspect of my proposal?”

He was given permission.

“I absolutely agree with my esteemed housemate, Mx. Bradley.”

I had forgotten that Bradley had come out as non-binary after the last Quidditch match last year, and that they intended to apply for permission to commence the transitioning process after Hallowe’en. Goodness only knows how that will go with Umbridge, given her treatment of Blaise. Hmm, I wondered, how will Edgecombe get her head around that difference? Well, they had my support to be whoever they wanted. I tuned back in to hear Justin say,

“And, so it’s about learning to structure essays in the right way and also ensuring understanding of the basic underlying principles of magic that I mean.”

Bradley bowed their acknowledgement of Justin’s argument and said, “in that case, I withdraw my objection and will happily accept care of our assigned group of First Year students along with my roommates.”

“Thank you, Mx. Bradley,” said Carl. “That being so, I will discuss this with my fellow prefects and the other Seventh Year students, and we will advise you all tomorrow afternoon on the room pairings and the schedule by which we will be available. To simplify things initially, it will be me who will be available here in the common room tomorrow for an hour from 11 am.”

At that point Flitwick and Charlotte returned.

“Ms. Edgecombe has wisely chosen to retire for the night. I suggest that none of you attempts to find out where Hogwarts has chosen to place her room. There remains half an hour until curfew, I recommend that all of you use the time for recreation rather than study. I wish you all a good night.”

There was a ragged chorus of “good night, Professor,” mixed in with wishes for a good night’s sleep and the meeting broke up.

The four of us went up to our room where Justin and Malfoy resumed their abandoned game of chess and Neville and I pulled out a Muggle comic book called _Beano_ that we’d somehow become addicted to. The latest issue had arrived in the evening owl post and we sat together on Neville’s bed to read it. Some of the humour was a bit childish and we found ourselves rolling our eyes at some of the more obvious puns, but every now and then we’d find ourselves laughing together over some of the situations.

When the curfew bell rang, we got up and stretched. I went over to my bed while Neville stripped down to his boxers. The other two finished their game with Malfoy taking a close defeat. I analysed my feelings about that and realised that, where in the past I would have felt a spark of joy that he’d lost, now it didn’t matter to me. They’d both obviously enjoyed the game and were engaged in an analysis of the last few moves to see where things might have been different.

“But if you’d moved your pawn one move earlier …”

“Then I would have opened the other bishop to attack by your queen and would have lost two moves later.”

“Oh. That’s assuming I saw it, because I didn’t until you mentioned it.”

“Sure, but I can’t assume that.”

“Anyway, it was a good game. Thank you, Draco. Oh, and well done earlier. That was masterfully presented.”

Malfoy went pink and muttered something about, “well, what can you expect if the silly girl leaves a trail that easy to follow.”

Malfoy went behind his curtains, while Justin stripped down to a singlet and shorts.

“Good night, all,” he said.

We wished him the same and then settled down behind our curtains.

A couple of hours later I was still wide awake and got up quietly and pulled a sweatshirt and trackpants on, cinching the drawstring in tight. They were Dudley’s castoffs and would easily have fitted three of me. I slipped the Invisibility Cloak and Map out of their hiding place behind my dresser. Pulling it around me, I left the room gently closing the door behind me.

This was the first time I had slipped out of Ravenclaw, so my initial route was a little confused, while I found my way onto my usual pathways. When I checked the map there were several students in the Defence Office along with Dolores Umbridge. I realised with a lurch of my stomach that that meant she was still running detentions two hours after curfew on a Friday night.

I’m not sure why I decided that this was something I needed to help with, but I found myself close to the corridor that her office was on. I stepped back into an alcove behind a suit of armour and waited.

About ten minutes later, one of the dots came out of the classroom and headed down the corridor towards me. It wasn’t a name I recognised, so she must have been a First Year from one of the other houses. When she got level with me, I could see that she was crying and was holding her left hand up against her chest. I checked the map again and saw that Snape’s dot was one level below us, moving towards the stairs. If he came up, it would be okay, but if he went down to the Great Hall, he wouldn’t find her. I had to make sure he came up. But how to do it?

Fortunately, while I was dithering, he did come up and reached the top of the stairs just as she come out of the corridor.

“Ms. Braithwaite, whatever are you doing up at this time?”

She squeaked in fright, then sniffed loudly. “Just coming from detention, sir.”

I could almost hear his eyebrows rising. “Detention? With the High Inquisitor I presume. What did she make you write?”

“I must not fib.”

“I assume you said something in class about the return of He-who-must-not-be-named,” and he sighed. “Let me guide you to your House entrance. When you get inside, I want you to wake up your assigned prefect. She will give you something to relieve the pain in your hand. I have already supplied her with the necessary.”

Their dots went down the stairs and then headed towards Hufflepuff.

To get the others the attention they needed as they came out, I was going to have to utilise several resources. I slipped out of my alcove and went up two levels to where Peeve’s dot was playing in an unused classroom.

I assumed a voice as close to the Baron’s as I could manage, “Peeves, stop what you are doing and listen to me.”

“Yes, your bloodiness,” came his response.

“There’s bad doings in the Defence corridor. Students are out of bed. Make sure Snape finds out.”

Peeves promptly zoomed off, while I searched out the Friar and the Baron himself. They happened to be together. I revealed myself to them and told them of what was happening. They were both livid at the idea of blood quills being used on students in such a way.

“You know that we can’t interfere with the detention, don’t you?” asked the Friar.

“Yes, I understand that, but you can assist with making sure that the students get the healing help they need from their prefects and Professor Snape. I’ve already sent Peeves to the Defence corridor, but he’s too flighty and will wander off at some point.”

“Very well, Mr. Potter, conceal yourself again. We’ll do what we can to assist.” And the two of them floated off through the ceiling.

I checked the map. The Creevey brothers had been released and were making their way together up to Gryffindor. They met Peeves and stopped. Snape suddenly arrived behind them, out of a secret passageway, and Peeves went scurrying away through the floor by all looks, as he arrived in the corridor below. Snape went with them part of the way.

There were still three more students in her office. I made my way back to my alcove just as Lee Jordan came out and headed in the opposite direction. He then leaned against a wall and covered himself with a notice-me-not. I could see him, because I knew he was there. Every now and then, he raised his right hand and flipped the bird through the wall at Umbridge.

Now that there were fewer students in the office, I could make out the names of the remaining two: Edward Black, and Hailey Jones. A Hufflepuff and a Slytherin. Both Third Year students.

Suddenly they were both released. Umbridge’s dot went from her office through to the room behind. I knew that was where her chambers were, from the time when Remus had the Defence position. Lee was about to reveal himself when the Friar and the Baron appeared through the wall beside them. They were led up the corridor towards the stairs and they met Snape right outside my alcove.

“How many were in detention tonight Ms. Jones?”

“Nine altogether, but three were released before the curfew bell.”

“So, is number five still in there?”

“No, a tall black guy with dreads was released about five minutes before us.”

“Ah. Mr. Jordan, come along please.”

And Lee peeled himself off the wall, cancelled the notice-me-not and strolled along the corridor to meet them. He didn’t fail to flip the bird one more time as he passed her office door.

“Your grace and your reverence, I would be very appreciative if you could see Mr. Jordan and Mr. Black back to Hufflepuff, while I take Ms. Jones down to Slytherin. Mr. Jordan and Mr. Black, when you get back, please see if Ms. Hong is still awake. She will have been woken by Ms. Braithwaite. She has the necessary potions for your pain and to reduce the scarring.”

He then paused and seemingly addressed the ceiling, “ten points to Ravenclaw for ensuring that assistance was available.”

The others looked puzzled, but the Friar nodded approvingly, and they all moved off.

I decided to head back to Ravenclaw. When I slipped back into our room, there were the sounds of gentle snoring from the other three beds. I slid my things back where they belonged, peeled off my clothing and slipped back into bed. This time I fell asleep easily.

I found myself weaving down a passage that led to a suite of rooms. I’d not been in here before, but that’s where my master was now. The one who thought he owned the rooms was there again, this time the female was with them.

“Hello Nagini, I wass wondering when you would find usss. Have you hunted well?”

“Not ass well ass I would like. The nassty creaturess with the sstaring eyess and flapping earss keep sstopping me from catching and eating the ssilly birdss. One of thosse would make an excssellent meal.”

“Lucius, it would appear that your House Elves are stopping Nagini from dining on your peafowl.”

“Ah, my Lord, that would be because they were ordered a long time ago to protect the fowl from all predators. Do you wish me to rescind that order in respect of one or two of the birds?”

The female’s eyes lit up with an expression of hope, such as I had not seen for many years. Not since Credence and I worked together in the circus all those years ago. Hmm, she did not like the silly creatures.

“The female doess not like the creaturess. Sshe would be happy to have them gone.”

“Narcissa, your thoughts are showing,” laughed my master.

They went on to talk of other things while I slithered restlessly around the room, inspecting the various corners and possible hiding places for prey. When I returned my attention to them, they were discussing the school their hatchling was attending.

“There are many there who already support you, my Lord, and there are others who desire to do so, but haven’t taken the courage to do so yet.”

“That is good, Lucius. They must be encouraged, gently, quietly, of course. The Ministry’s obsession with painting Harry Potter as a liar is to our benefit.”

“What’s more, my Lord, because of the way students are moved around the Houses, your supporters are able to get alongside a much wider range of students than was possible in the older eras.”

“You forget, Lucius, that that policy was current even when I was at Hogwarts. I was in all of the houses at some point across my seven years there, with the exception of Gryffindor. For some reason I was never able to persuade the Hat to put me there, but it just refused every time.”

The male stiffened for a moment, “my Lord, someone has just crossed the wards from the direction of the lake. Please excuse me while I investigate.”

My master nodded and the male vanished, only to return a few minutes later.

“My Lord, I have just found Pettigrew wandering around the grounds. I have immobilised him and await your instructions as to what to do with him.”

“I suppose I’d better come and see what he wants. He’s not supposed to come here unless something untoward with his mission has occurred. You might as well retire, Narcissa.”

With that they all vanished leaving me to hunt in this new area, but first I would curl up in this warm spot I had just found and have a snooze.


	12. An Owl and Occulmency

**Saturday 7 September**

I got to Snape’s office a few minutes before nine. When I turned from closing the door, I caught sight of an owl perched on a rest over to one side. It was dark brown with several pale spots, and its eyes were a golden colour.

“What a beautiful owl, sir.”

“Indeed, Potter. Unfortunately, she is not mine, but is recuperating her strength prior to making her long flight back to her companion, after making her delivery to me.”

“May I ask what kind of owl she is, sir?”

“She is a _Ninox novaeseelandiae_, known to the local population as _Ruru_. Her name is _Whetu_, which means ‘star’ in the Māori language.”

She gave me a fixed stare, then spread her wings and flew over to perch on my left shoulder.

“Hello Whetu,” I said as I reached up a hand to pet her in the way that I knew Hedwig liked. She screed quietly and bunted my ear with her head. Then she raised her leg for me to take the message case attached to it.

“Open it, Potter. She wouldn’t let me near it.”

I fumbled a little but got the case open and slid out a slim scroll of paper. Whetu continued to hold her leg up, so I dug a finger in a little further and found another. After I had slipped that out, she nipped my ear affectionately and swooped silently back to her perch.

I inspected the two scrolls. One was labelled “To the Attention of Mr. H.J. Potter, Esq.”, the other “To the Attention of Messrs. Finch-Fletchley, Longbottom and Malfoy.” Each of the scrolls was sealed with a tiny blob of green wax. I couldn’t make out what the image in the wax was, not with my glasses the way they were.

“Sir, I think that I should delay opening this until I am with the other three from my dorm room.”

“Very good, Potter. Maybe you have the ability to not be a head-strong Gryffindor after all.”

“Well sir, maybe I’m not very Gryffindor anyway. After all, the hat did want to put me in Slytherin in my first year, but I vehemently declined.”

“You declined? Why, may I ask?”

“I met Malfoy in both Madam Malkins and then again on the train. His put-on airs were not encouraging and on top of that the only wizard I’d met before then was Hagrid, who is not exactly friendly towards Slytherin—and certainly expressed it.”

“Hmm,” was Snape’s only reply.

“Also, the hat said I would be great if I went to Slytherin. I didn’t, and still don’t, want to be great, sir. I would really like to just be ordinary.”

He snorted, as if to say, “as if”. “Potter, these maudlin sentiments do not suit you. You are already great in the eyes of the world out there. It is fortunate for you that my own opinion doesn’t align. Now to the primary purpose of your visit here today. Mind Magic.”

I wrenched my mind out of its track and focused on him.

“In the Headmaster’s office the other day you intimated to me that you had already experienced the act of someone performing legilimency on you.”

“Yes sir. It was the Headmaster himself and more than once. I recognised the sensation immediately when you incanted.”

“Do you know what memories he was after?”

“I’m not entirely sure, sir. Certainly, one time was after we rescued Ginny from the Chamber of Secrets, so I guess he wanted to know about my encounters with Voldemort.”

He hissed and grabbed his left forearm.

“Sir?”

“It’s nothing, Potter, other than saying or hearing his name causes me pain in the mark. It would be easier for these sessions if you could refrain from speaking his name aloud.”

“Okay,” I said. “Does calling him Tom or Riddle cause the same problem?”

“No, it’s just the V-name. The other thing you should know is that he put a geas on his name during the last war, so that when anyone used it all wards and protections were immediately broken and they were able to be captured by a team of snatchers. When you broke him as a baby, you also broke the geas. However, he has the ability to put it back at any time. The only place that provided protection at the time was here at Hogwarts, which is why the Headmaster continues to prate his ‘fear of a name’ foolishness.”

“Thank you for explaining, sir. I’ll do my best to avoid using his name, except in the Headmaster’s presence. Now, Malfoy and Neville were explaining to me that the Headmaster using Legilimency on me like that was illegal. What can I do about that?”

“They are quite right. However, as he’s your magical guardian, there’s not a lot that can be done.”

“He’s what?”

Snape narrowed his eyes at me. “Are you telling me that you didn’t know that Albus Dumbledore is your guardian?”

“As far as I knew Petunia and Vernon Dursley are my guardians. After all that’s where I was dropped off following my parent’s deaths.”

“P-Petunia?” He heaved a sigh. “I think I’m going to regret asking this. What does Petunia think of magic these days?”

“She doesn’t like it and calls it ‘freaky’. In fact, it wasn’t until I went to school that I found out my name isn’t ‘Freak.’”

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose, then said, “excuse me a moment, Potter.” He went through a door at the back of his office, leaving it slightly ajar. I heard the ring of a sword being pulled from a scabbard, then a whistling sound followed by a loud thwack. He returned to his office, panting slightly.

“Well Mr. Potter, it would appear that I have been mistaken about you. I was led to believe, like so many others in the Magical World, that you were somewhere safe and that you were well-cared for, nay pampered even.”

I snorted. “Sir, whoever told you that was talking out their arse, if I may be permitted such a phrase. And I suspect that that person was someone I should trust and respect but have learnt not to. Interfering, meddling old coot.” I muttered the last.

“Indeed, Potter, indeed. So, what was ...” he broke off and sighed again. “What _is_ your home life actually like?”

I could feel sweat breaking out on my forehead and my armpits suddenly felt heavy and wet. “Sir, I can’t talk about it. The last time I tried to give even a hint I had a full panic attack and Neville and Malfoy had to get Dobby to bring a calming potion. I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to say it. Even n-n-n-now, I’m cl-cl-cl-cl-close.”

He reached into a pocket of his robes and pulled out a vial. “Drink this now, Potter.”

I must have looked dubious for he reacted, “oh, don’t be foolish. It’s an improved Calming Draught that I’ve been working on for the past few months. The taste is better and the replacement of dandelion with burdock seems to give it a better balance.”

I shrugged and swigged it down. He was right, it did taste better than some of the potions I’d drunk over the years and I felt myself becoming calmer almost immediately.

“Professor? Could we use Legilimency so that I don’t have to try to talk about it?”

He hesitated for a moment, then said, “we could, but I don’t think that today is the right day for this. As you are aware, I am already angry, and I suspect that I would get angrier. I’m very aware of your aunt’s opinions of magic and magic users.” He broke off for a moment and I looked up at him in surprise.

“Mr. Potter, what I’m about to tell you I expect you to keep quiet about. In particular do not tell either Ms. Granger or Mr. Weasley. Their minds are too open and even a mediocre Legilimens can pick up some of their leaking thoughts without trying hard at all.”

“I’m not having much to do with either of them so far this year, sir. I’m spending most of my time with my room mates.”

“That’s good, and we have more to talk about there as well. However, before we do so. I grew up a few streets away from the Evans’ house. The park closest to me was also the one closest to them and we met there many times and played on the swings and did other such things as children do together. My mother was a witch, so I already knew something about the magical world, whereas Lily didn’t understand how she could do some of the things she could. I was the one who told her what it was about. When Professor McGonagall turned up on the Evans’ doorstep with the Letter and to explain things, Lily was already well aware of much of what she told them. Unfortunately, Petunia was dreadfully jealous. She even wrote to the Headmaster begging him to take her into Hogwarts. I don’t know exactly what he replied, but it would have been a gentle let down. But from that moment on Lily and I were both called freaks. I would go on, but I’m afraid that I would bore you.”

“Far from it, sir. You’ve just told me more about my mother than anyone has before. I didn’t even know what her name was until Hagrid came to take me to Diagon Alley. And all I knew before then was that she had died in a car-crash because my father was driving while drunk.” Snape was beginning to seethe again, so I hastily said, “it’s okay I know better now. Sir, could you tell me more about her? All anyone, including Sirius and Remus, will tell me is that I have her eyes and that she was very good at Charms.”

“Very well, Potter. Each Saturday when you come here for Occlumency training, I will tell you one story of your mother. No, don’t thank me. Not all the stories will be nice but telling them over may just help me lay some ghosts as well. Now, our hour is almost up, and we haven’t started you on training. The first thing you need to learn to do is to clear your mind.”

“Like a _tabula rasa_?”

“Absolutely not. Presenting an accomplished Legilimens with a blank slate is just encouraging them to plant false memories. What we are trying to achieve is a bland exterior that suggests that nothing much is going on.”

“So, how do I do that?”

“I want you to read this short book,” and he passed me a slim volume titled _Teach Yourself Mind Clearance_. “Then every night, before you retire, I want you to practice the meditation technique in Chapter Four. I will be testing you next Saturday morning.

“Now, as to your room mates. Mr. Malfoy has told me of Professor Flitwick’s discovery about your affinity. I will, from time to time, come into the Spell Creation class as a guest teacher. Under the current regime,” and I knew he meant Umbridge, “we cannot risk any extracurricular sessions. You may, however, pass on what I teach you here in ‘Remedial Potions.’ Yes, that’s what I have to call this session to prevent wagging tongues, so don’t pull faces. You may pass on what you learn here to your room mates.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Now, just one other thing before I let you go. Our current frosty relationship in the Potions classroom must continue. If it were to change, then word would get back to the Dark Lord very quickly, and both of our lives would be in danger. At least with Mr. Malfoy helping you and Longbottom, you have a chance to pass, but I can’t assist you.”

“I understand sir. However, I will try not to goad you too much.”

“Right,” he shouted as he flicked his wand to open the door, “get out, while I clean up this mess you’ve made.”

I grinned to myself as I strode out of his office with my head up and a mulish look on my face. There was a short line of students outside, including Ron who was looking pale.

I gave him a grin, but he only looked sickly back at me. Then I heard, “Weasley get in here and explain to me how you have managed to acquire three detentions already this week.”

I headed for the stairs as he made his shambling way into Snape’s office.


	13. Finding Out

I joined the others in the library where they were working on the various essays we’d been assigned.

“Did that go okay?” asked Neville.

“Yeah, Remedial Potions is not my favourite thing to do on Saturday morning.” I heaved a sigh. “It is what it is. Anyway, what are you guys working on?”

“Just our essays. Still need to do that precis though.”

“Hmm, what grade would we get for saying Slinkhard is a blowhard?”

They grinned.

“Oh, I have some stuff to fill you in on later. Aside from that, did you know Ron’s had three detentions this week? Snape is not happy.”

“Three? I knew about McGonagall’s one for the needle, of course,” said Neville.

“Snape’ll be unhappy enough about Pansy’s one, but three in one week? What’s the Weasel playing at? A Slytherin simply doesn’t do that.”

“Probably just exercising his teenage rebellion gene. And down there he doesn’t have the twins to sit on him,” suggested Justin.

With that we returned to writing essays.

About an hour later, we packed up our stuff and headed back to Ravenclaw and our room. Once there I asked Malfoy to cast a noise-blocking charm so that our voices wouldn’t travel out of the room.

“You’re the best at those.”

He was surprised at the compliment but did as I asked.

“Right, first, I had another dream about your home,” and I went on to explain what I had heard and seen in the dream.

“Potter, just how are you dreaming these things? I know it must be real, because you just described that room perfectly and there’s no way you have ever been in it. Even if you had visited us for the mid-winter ball or were a house guest, you would not have gotten to that room.”

“I don’t know. Anyway, that’s the reason for the noise-blocking charm. We can’t trust the others until we find out who the baby Death Eaters are, along with the wannabes. And no, I don’t believe you are one. Last year, I would have thought so, but over this week I’ve learnt that you’re one of the least likely—despite your family history—it would take some serious blackmail to get you involved.”

His face took on the customary sneer. “Are you going soft on me, Potter?”

“No, you prat. How likely is that in less than a week. Pffft.

“Anyway, the second thing to tell you about is Mind Magic. Snape can’t risk extra sessions with you guys, so I’m to pass on what I learn on Saturday mornings during ‘Remedial Potions’ and he’ll come occasionally to Spell Creation class as a guest teacher. Her power is too strong right now.”

“So, what was today about?” asked Justin.

“We were setting the ground for our sessions, so didn’t get very far. However, I need to learn to clear my mind by doing the meditation exercise in Chapter Four of this book. I’m also supposed to read the whole book.”

Malfoy nodded. “Clearing your mind is the best way to start learning how to block people from getting in. It’s not about emptying it, rather about tidying it up so that your thoughts are not left lying around.”

“That’s a helpful description, Draco,” said Justin. “I was wondering what clearing the mind meant.” Then he turned to me, “so, based on what you’ve just said, we all need to read this book over the next few days.”

The other two nodded and Malfoy said, “it would be good revision for me. I last read it just before coming to Hogwarts for the first time. There’s probably stuff in it I didn’t understand back then.”

“Next, what the hell is a magical guardian? And how would Dumbledore have become mine?”

“You mean you didn’t know he’s your guardian?” asked Neville.

“No, not until this morning when Snape said something. I fully believed that my aunt and uncle were my sole guardians. Snape’s response was the same as yours. How did I not know? Well, the answer to that is easy, no one told me.”

Malfoy explained, “if a magical child becomes an orphan, then the law says that their nearest magical relative should become their guardian, both for welfare and magic. That’s why Bone’s guardian is her aunt. If there is no magical relative within three degrees, then the parents’ wills are to be accessed and the list of guardians stated there are gone through in order until one is found. Which is why Bulstrode’s guardian is Nott’s father. If none of those listed are available, then the child becomes a ward of the head of the Department of Underage Magic, whoever he or she may be. At present I don’t know of anyone in that situation.”

“So, if he was in the list of guardians in my parents’ wills, that’s okay. How do I go about verifying that? I suspect some degree of jiggery pokery here.”

“Write to the goblins. They have the originals of all wills.”

I nodded my thanks.

“And the last thing I need to talk to you about is these.” I pulled out the two letters that Whetu had brought. “What’s the symbol in the wax? I can’t make it out.”

“Oh,” said Justin, “it’s the same as on the front of the book. Where did you get these?”

I explained how there had been a strange owl in Snape’s office, and that she hadn’t let him access one of her message pouches, but as soon as she saw me she flew over for me to get them out.

“What does yours say, Harry?” asked Neville.

“Don’t know. I decided it would be best if we opened them together. Also, I didn’t want to keep Snape waiting while I read it.”

I don’t know about the others, but I could feel my heart beat a little faster as I broke the seal and unfolded the delicate slip of paper. It was covered in fine italic writing.

> “Mr. Potter,
> 
> “One hopes that this finds you in reasonable health now that you have finally found your companions. We have tried to link the four of you together several times, but matters kept getting out of hand, what with basilisks, dementors, and Tri-Wizard Tournaments, give or take some random dark lords.
> 
> “Having now been successful, there are some matters that must be put in train with some urgency. You must learn and become adept in all aspects of Mind Magic. Your Potions skills need to advance to match your current Defence skills. Your physical prowess needs to be advanced and you need to lose your temper more often.
> 
> “There are some aspects of your group and individual training that only a member of our organisation will be able to provide, and should you and your companions accept this proposal, one of us will join the Hogwarts staff for the rest of the year.
> 
> “Kindly indite your decision in writing and send back to me via my owl.
> 
> “I have the honour to be your most humble servant,
> 
> “Te Awhiorangi  
“GMOM”

I looked up after reading this through twice. The other guys looked stunned at theirs.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“I think you’d better read this one, too,” said Neville.

I gave them mine to read and read through theirs. It was in the same hand. Whoever this bloke was, he had impeccable handwriting.

> “Gentlemen,
> 
> “One offers apologies up front that a combined letter has been used, but time is of the essence and the content of the three individual letters would have been close to identical anyway.
> 
> “The three of you are essential to the ongoing health of Mr. Potter and it is vital that you continue to develop the close relationships with each other and with Mr. Potter that you have already started over the past four years.
> 
> “In many areas you are all well in advance of Mr. Potter because of the way the various dark lords are and have been treating him, and yet he is essential to the ongoing survival of the magical world, regardless of national borders. The way he was hidden from his natural place in the magical world was shameful, but it is not too late to rectify this. However, he will need the help of each of you to reach his true place. Once he has done so, then you too will be able to assume the roles that you are each destined for—and are being trained towards.
> 
> “We propose to provide an additional member of teaching staff to Hogwarts for the remainder of the year, should the four of you agree. His official role will be to add Wizarding Studies to the curriculum for those students who were raised in the mundane world. His real primary role would be co-ordinating the many aspects of training that you need.
> 
> “Kindly discuss this proposal amongst the four of you and then make reply via my owl.
> 
> “I have the honour to be your most humble servant,
> 
> “Te Awhiorangi  
“GMOM”

“So, who is this ‘we’ he keeps using?” I asked. “And what does ‘GMOM’ stand for?”

The others just looked at me with same blankness that I was feeling, so I continued, “I need to lose my temper more often so that the magical world can survive. What the hell?”

“What’s more worrying, Potter, is that I’m essential to your health and we should keep up our close relationship.”

“Well, we were discussing the need for a course like Wizarding Studies, so that people like me can learn some of the fundamentals of living in this world instead of the Muggle one. I can see the benefit in having someone like that turn up, but co-ordinate all the aspects of learning we need so that we can take our destined roles? What destined roles?”

“He knows a lot about what’s been going here, despite the fact he lives a long way away. Some of the detail suggests an informant from within either Hogwarts or the Order of the Phoenix,” threw in Neville.

“Interesting that we’ve all latched onto different things, but that we needed to read both letters to do so,” I commented.

“So,” said Justin, “what do we write back?”

“Well, like we said on Wednesday afternoon, we’ll take any extra training we can get in the subjects we’re not brilliant at,” said Neville. “So, I vote we accept immediately.”

“I’m up for it,” I said, “even if it’s just to find out more about this destined roles or true place thing.”

“Draco?” asked Justin.

“Well,” he drawled. “I guess if Potter’s healthy survival is worth someone coming from some secret organisation, then we could put up with the inconvenience of another person training us.”

“Aww, Malfoy, I didn’t know you cared so much,” I teased.

“Shut it, Potter.”

Justin cut in, “I’m not fully convinced by all this. I propose that we word our note of acceptance to indicate it’s tentative and conditional on fuller information on this organisation being provided, so that we can be sure that we’re not just being targeted by either a sex ring or someone from He-who-must-not-be-named’s lot.”

“That sounds sensible,” I said. And we agreed that Justin would draft a note on our behalf and that we’d then check it through.

~~~

In the afternoon Malfoy and I headed down to the Quidditch pitch with our brooms knowing we’d find other like-minded students down there. Sure enough, all four Weasleys were there along with Cho, Roger Davies and various others from across all four houses. There were too many for standard seven person teams and we quickly decided to go ten aside by adding two chasers and one beater to each side. There was still one over, so I offered to referee while Cho and Malfoy were the Seekers.

“Now, I want a good clean game,” I said in my best version of Hooch’s voice. “On my whistle,” and we were away.

The snitch disappeared quickly from view, but I could sense where it was. I wondered why for a moment, then got caught up with keeping out of the players’ way while checking for fouls and other rule breaking.

Ron was Keeper at the northern end and somehow Fred had got on to the opposing team and confused him by sending a bludger at the left goal while Davies sent the quaffle through the right. I blew the whistle and the automatic scoreboard put ten points up.

From then on, the game went quickly. The two sides were pretty even, and the points racked up to 110 to 100. It would be up to the seekers to resolve this one. I could still sense where the snitch was in the back of my mind and couldn’t understand why Draco and Cho were in completely the wrong part of the pitch. However, before I think it through further George fouled Robin Astley, a Slytherin who was playing Chaser.

Immediately I had dealt with that, the snitch winked into view right in front of me and it was all I could do to stop myself from grabbing it. The ref isn’t supposed to end the game by catching the snitch. Kind of defeats the purpose really.

My reaction must have caught Malfoy’s attention for he was suddenly barrelling straight towards me with Cho close on his tail. I dropped down a few metres as the scoreboard clanged when Ron missed the quaffle after Fred faked him again.

Cho must have got a new broom. Her Comet wouldn’t have brought her level with Malfoy’s Nimbus 2001 like she had just done. The snitch then jinked up and went over their heads and danced along behind them like it was chasing them instead of the other way.

The scoreboard went again as Astley scored at the other end dodging around Colin. In the meantime, Draco did an upwards loop, while Cho went the other way in a tight reverse barrel roll, and they were both behind the snitch again. Davies scored again, and a minute later Astley did. There was still only ten points in the game, then Draco took a leaf out of my playbook and did a half roll so that he was hanging upside down from his broom. As a result, his footrest grazed Cho’s, which distracted her for long enough to allow Malfoy to pop up and grab the snitch. I blew my whistle to signal the end of the game. We all landed amid great laughter and Cho was the first to congratulate Malfoy on outsmarting her.

“Did you get a new broom, Cho?” I asked. “Your Comet was good, but it couldn’t have done what you did there.”

“Yes, but it’s still a Comet. I couldn’t persuade Dad to get me a Firebolt or a Nimbus, but he did spring for the newest Comet. It’s three models up from my old one.”

Davies came across from where he’d landed. “Well, you’ve just handed me the hardest decision of my Quidditch captaincy.”

“What do you mean, Roger?” asked Cho.

“Well, now I have to decide which of you three will be starting Seeker in the Inter-House Cup matches. We have the three best Seekers that Hogwarts has seen in our generation—and I’m including Krum in that.”

None of us had seen that coming, and we looked at each glumly. Then I said, “Davies, you’ll have to hold proper trials for all positions. You never know, we might test better for Chaser, Beater or Keeper and a new person might be a better Seeker. Let’s not assume anything, eh?”

The other two nodded. And Cho said, “that sounds like the fairest. I really enjoy playing Seeker, but if it’s a choice between playing another position or sitting out as reserve, I’d rather be in that other position.”

“Thank you,” said Davies. “I’ll book the pitch for trials during the week.”

“Not Wednesday though,” said Malfoy. “We’ve got Astronomy that night.”

We started moving up to the school buildings in a group, chattering about the game and reliving some of its moments.

“Oh,” I said. “I’ve just remembered. Right throughout the game I knew where the snitch was. There were times when I couldn’t understand why you two were in completely the wrong part of the pitch. It was really odd.”

“But, Harry, you were the referee,” said Cho.

“Yeah, and?”

“Didn’t you know? The referee always knows where all the balls are at any time, so they can more easily detect fouls. It’s an automatic part of the magic and happens after kicking open the box to release the bludgers and quaffle. It’s confirmed when the referee throws the snitch into the air.”

“I love magic,” was all I could respond.

We trooped back to our dorm room and as we entered there was a hurried scuffling noise. I looked over at Neville and Justin to see them sitting at Neville’s desk looking over a piece of parchment. Neville was blushing a bit.

“Malfoy, why don’t you have the first shower? You did a lot more flying than I did.”

He nodded his acceptance of this suggestion and grabbed a change of clothes before heading into the bathroom.

Once the door was shut, I turned quickly to the others and hissed, “weren’t you listening to Flitwick when he said not to do anything together until we had some training?”

“What do you mean, Harry?”

“I’m not stupid. The two of you were kissing just before we came in. Kissing is part of doing stuff. We don’t know how our magic works together and we don’t know what might or could happen, even with simple stuff.”

They looked abashed. “Hadn’t thought of it like that,” said Justin. “It was just a spur of the moment thing. You know, proximity and all that.”

“Yeah, but you’ve got to guard against it, eh? And all four of us have got to get there together and Malfoy’s a way off yet. So, control yourselves. Lecture over.”

And I went to my bed space and pulled out a change of clothes. Malfoy came out soon after while I was telling them about the game and how he had tricked Cho at the end. I went in and had a quick shower.

When I came out, we had about fifteen minutes to go before the dinner gong was due. Malfoy was saying something about taking our reply to Te Awhiorangi down to Snape so that Whetu could start her journey back to wherever it was.

“Oh, that reminds me of something else Snape said this morning. If someone uses old Snake-face’s assumed name in Snape’s presence he feels pain in his mark. But calling him by his real name doesn’t cause any problems.”

“That makes sense,” said Malfoy. “I’ve seen my father and Uncle Severus clutch their arms when someone like Dumbledore uses the V-word.”

“Also, you know how the Dark Lord that Binns was going on about has an anathema on his name? Well, Riddle put a geas on his that alerted the Death Eaters to where the person who used it was. They were able to apparate directly to the location and ‘arrest’ them. That was broken when he tried to Avada me when I was a baby, but he could put it back on at any time. Last time the only safe place from the Death Eaters was Hogwarts. That’s apparently why the old coot throws the name around a lot. He thinks he’s safe. Snape reckons that we can’t guarantee that Hogwarts would remain safe.

“As a result, I’ve decided to stop using the V-name for the bastard and just call him Tom Riddle, or some version of that. Except, of course, when in Dumbledore’s comforting and protecting presence.”

They laughed at the evident sarcasm at this last, and we headed down to dinner. We met up with and passed Professor Flitwick escorting Edgecombe down, which he’d done for the other two meals that day. I suspected that it was for her protection as much as to ensure that she had her meals.

Roast beef with the standard trimmings, including Yorkshire pudding, was the order of the day and we tucked in happily. I managed two slices of beef and a couple of roast potatoes, along with some Yorkie and a Brussels sprout. Pudding for us was again Greek yoghurt and fresh fruit salad, while most others at the table got pancakes.

The evening owl post arrived and a non-descript brown owl landed beside me and officiously stuck it’s leg out at me. I untied the jesses and retrieved the small scroll. I went to offer it a treat, but it left before I could get it out of my pocket.

I recognised the seal as coming from Gringotts, so I broke it immediately and read,

> “Dear Mr. Potter,
> 
> “It has been brought to our attention by his imperial majesty’s battle master-sergeant-at-arms that there are some anomalies in various matters in our dealings with you. We would appreciate the opportunity to discuss these with you. To that end we will attend upon you at Hogwarts on the afternoon of Sunday 8th inst. at 2 o’clock. We propose to use our esteemed cousin’s office for this purpose. As he is also your Head of House, this should raise no suspicions with those whom we do not wish to know of this meeting at the present time. You may, if you choose, bring your companions with you.
> 
> “We remain yours, etc., etc.,
> 
> “Griphook (Potter accounts delegate)
> 
> “Shankford (London branch manager)”

“What’s that about Harry?” asked Neville, looking at my face.

I looked up to see several curious eyes looking in our direction. “Later,” I muttered, and I offered a distraction by bringing up the topic of Quidditch and what the chances of the Falmouth Falcons were against the Holyhead Harpies in the mid-week match.

After we were dismissed with the glad tidings that there was a new educational decree, we headed out of the Great Hall. As I passed the place where Edgecombe was sitting at the table, I felt a hand attempt to take the letter out of my pocket. I grabbed her wrist and squeezed until she yelped and let go of it.

“Edgecombe, shunning you does not mean ignoring you and allowing you to carry on your vendetta against the residents of our Chamber.”

“Mr. Potter,” it was Snape alert for any trouble. “What is the problem here?”

“Sir, Ms. Edgecombe tried to pick my pocket of a letter I just received as I passed by her seat. Fortunately, I was able to detect her attempt and prevented it.”

He sighed, then said quietly, “Ms. Edgecombe come with me.” When she didn’t move, he barked, “now!”

She jumped and then hastened to comply. Because of the incident, most other students had left the Hall already and, looking down, I noticed that she had left a book behind. I picked it up with the intention of returning it to her later. Purely automatically I looked at the title and almost dropped it.

“What’s wrong Harry?” asked Justin.

“This book that Edgecombe left behind by mistake.”

“What about it?”

“Look what it’s called.”

The others gathered around and read _Menstrual Blood: A Woman’s Weapon Most Potente_.

“Ewww. That’s definitely not something I’d want to read, for all I’m a Ravenclaw.”

“No,” I said. “However, I sense that it’s a dangerous book.”

I looked up and saw that Hermione was about to leave. “Hermione?” She looked back and I beckoned to her.

When she came across to us, I showed her the book.

“Oh dear. That book has been banned ever since it was published. There isn’t even a copy in the Black library and that’s got some awful books in it. Where did you find it?”

“Marietta Edgecombe had it, but she left it behind by mistake. Hermione, could you possibly find time to work out which male or males she’s after with this? And whether she wants to woo them or destroy them?”

Her eyes glistened with the thought of the research and then she wandered off distractedly.

“Well, that’s her out of the way for a while, I hope,” I said.

“Oh, well done, Potter. Most Slytherin of you.”

“Yeah, but we have to hope that Edgecombe wasn’t after us,” Neville pointed out. “Because that will put her focus right back on us.”

“Professor Flitwick,” called Malfoy, “might we have a moment of your time?”

“Why certainly gentlemen. I will have to follow up with Sev … ah, Professor Snape on Ms. Edgecombe shortly, but for the moment I am at your disposal.”

“Thank you, sir. Edgecombe attempted to steal a letter from Potter, which is why Professor Snape took her away. In her hurry to leave, she left this book behind.”

I passed it to him, saying, “Hermione tells us that it is a banned book.”

“Indeed it is. We will have to find out from whom she obtained this copy. I was unaware that any existed outside a few private libraries. Like you, I am reluctant to open it. However, I will take the responsibility for it off your hands and will work with the appropriate people to sort it out.”

I then asked him what the word Stagnant had used means.

“Mr. Potter!” and he looked scandalised. “Where did you hear that word?”

I explained that the circumstances.

“That is possibly the crudest swear word that exists in any language. It is well beyond the so-called F-bomb. I would advise you to bury it so deep in your mind that you forget that it exists.”

“Also, Professor, may we come and see you tomorrow at two to discuss what textbooks we’ll need for the course?”

I slipped him the letter as I asked this. He skimmed through it rapidly and raised his eyebrows at the ending.

“Certainly, certainly, yes two would be an excellent time for such a discussion. I should have most of my marking out of the way by then.”

And he walked away carrying Edgecombe’s book with him and muttering, “when I get hold of my brother, I’ll wash his mouth out with soap.”

“Why do we need to meet with Flitwick at that time?” asked Neville. “We’re seeing him for class on Monday afternoon, aren’t we?”

“Hem, hem,” came from behind us.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Professor,” said Justin. “I didn’t realise we were blocking the way.”

“Oh no, you’re not blocking my way. I was just waiting my turn to have a conversation with such a popular group of young men.” And she simpered.

Well, Flitwick can call it an F-bomb if he likes, but I’m using the word even if it’s just in my head. What the fuck does she really want? I could see the others had similar thoughts. Then I wondered how much of the previous conversation might she have heard.

Malfoy’s face took on his special brand of bland interest, while Justin responded vaguely, “a conversation with us? I’m afraid we’re not very interesting Professor, just a few fifteen-year-old boys.”

“Well, I don’t know about that. I would like to get to know all my students better and what better than over a cup of tea and some cake. What do you say to dropping by my office at two o’clock tomorrow afternoon?” Then she bloody simpered again.

Malfoy spoke up and said, “I’m afraid, Professor, that we have a prior engagement at that time.”

“Oh, but surely you could break that—for me,” she said coyly. However, I could feel the iron fist behind her words.

Malfoy responded, “Professor, my parents have taught me that breaking a pre-arranged engagement with someone, except in matters of life or death, is a very bad thing to do. And, lovely though it sounds, having tea and cake with our Defence Professor is hardly a matter of life or death. Surely you’re not asking me to go against my mother’s moral teachings.”

She looked like she wanted to argue but couldn’t find a hole in Malfoy’s response.

“If we were to set another time and date now, that would prevent something else from usurping our attention from you,” chimed in Neville.

“Thank you for the suggestion, Mr. Longbottom. However, I’m never sure of my schedule more than a day or two ahead. We’ll have to try again later.” And she waddled off. We could hear her “hem, hem” in the Grand Foyer.

“Right, let’s get out of here and up to our room, before someone else turns up,” said Justin, and we slipped behind the group of students whom she had bailed up and went up to Ravenclaw as quickly as we could.

The Common Room was crowded with people dancing to the Weird Sisters’ latest hit—a cover of _It’s Only a Paper Moon_. As soon as we walked in, we were dragged into the middle of the dance with much laughter by the Second- and First-Year students. Most of the older students were standing or sitting around the edges of the room watching.

When the song ended, we attempted to get away, but Ms. Carthew was insistent on a second dance before we were allowed to do so. So, we hopped about to _These Foolish Familiars_ with its crazy refrain of

“_Owls, rats, cats and kneazles,_  
_ Snakes, crups, drups and beazles._”

Mercifully after that, we were allowed to escape, and we got to our room without further interruption.

“What the hell is a ‘beazle’?” I asked. “I don’t remember them in the Care textbooks.”

“It’s a dialect word for a stoat,” said Justin.

“Can stoats be magical familiars?”

“It happens occasionally, though ferrets make better ones. Stoats are usually too focused on finding prey or mating to make good familiars,” was Neville’s response.

I glanced at Draco when he mentioned ferrets, then decided it really wasn’t worth it and shrugged.

“Anyway, thanks for backing me up on the two o’clock thing with Flitwick without knowing what’s happening. Here’s the letter I got at dinner.”

They read it together.

“Hmm, looks like you might not need to write that letter about your guardianship status,” said Justin.

“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that.”

“And, whatever this is, it’s big,” said Malfoy. “Shankford hasn’t left the Bank for anyone for years. I remember my father mentioning it when I was about six, when he was trying to do some important private business that needed Shankford’s involvement, and he refused to come to the Manor. Father had to organise his meeting at the Bank.”

“You really want us to come with you?” asked Neville.

“Yes,” I responded. “I think this is important and I suspect that what we find out will affect all of us, not just me.”

“Oh, and Harry?”

“Yes, Neville?”

“What did you have to do with Snape awarding 10 points in the early hours of this morning?”

I was taken aback as I had forgotten about that. “Oh, I just helped some students find him after they came out of detention. Did you know he’s arranged that all the prefects have pain relievers and murtlap essence available for when students come back?”

“How many students?”

“She had nine last night but had let three go before curfew. The others were there till well after. The Creevey brothers from Gryffindor, Lee Jordan and two juniors from Hufflepuff and a junior Slytherin.”

“Well, she’s on patrol duty tonight, not Uncle Severus, so don’t go out tonight. In fact, as you’ve had two nights off the potion, you can have one tonight.”

“That’s wise words. Harry, listen to your Uncle Draco and do as he suggests,” said Justin with a grin.

The rest of us gave a whoop of laughter.

“Thanks, Malfoy. I’ll be sensible.”

“Well that would be a first. Maybe your Gryffindor leanings can be cured.” There was no malice in his words, so I just smiled as I went into the bathroom and did my teeth and evening ablutions.

Then, having only had a couple of hours sleep the night before, I settled to bed as the curfew bell rang. On Saturday nights it was always half an hour later than the rest of the week, so it was well time anyway. I took the potion, had just long enough to put the empty vial on my cabinet and then fell asleep immediately.


	14. Meeting with Gringott's: Part I

Sunday 7 September

When I woke the room was already alight with the morning sun pouring through the window. It was 7:15, which was the latest I’d slept for several months and I actually felt refreshed by the sleep. My mouth, though, tasted awful. I poked my head out and saw that Justin was sitting at his desk reading through the paper for Sprout. Neville and Malfoy’s curtains were still closed, so I got up quietly and slipped into the bathroom.

I was about to turn on a tap when I heard a moan. I nearly called out, but then heard the unmistakable slapping sound of someone wanking. As the sounds sped up, I felt myself getting hard and I reached down to palm my dick. Suddenly there was a gasp as they came, and I think I heard a couple of splats before the shower was turned on.

I took a piss willing my hard on to go down, then was brushing my teeth when the shower shut off. A short while later Malfoy came out of the shower.

“Did you sleep well, Potter?”

“Yes. In fact, I’ve not long woken, which makes it the longest I’ve slept for some time. I do appreciate you getting the potions for me.”

Somehow that seemed to deepen the truce between us, and we left the bathroom in companionable silence.

Neville was just surfacing and as he stood and stretched, I could see the beginnings of a treasure trail descending from his navel down into his boxer shorts. I looked away quickly, not wanting to spring a hard-on while I was only wearing a towel.

When we went down to the Common Room, Marietta Edgecombe was just coming in from another doorway. She looked a little lost and then frightened when she saw us. Malfoy went over to her and held out his hand. She took it carefully, as if it was something poisonous.

“Good morning, Ms. Edgecombe. Welcome back from your short break. I do hope that your accommodations did not unduly inconvenience you. Would you do me the honour of accompanying me down to breakfast?”

Her pure blood breeding kicked in and she dropped her mask into place as she graciously accepted his invitation and tucked her hand onto his elbow. He nodded to us to follow them, then swept out through the main door.

Neville breathed quietly, “oh, well done Draco. Very well done indeed.”

I thought I understood what he meant but quirked an eyebrow at him.

“This way it shows the rest of our house that it wasn’t personal against her and that it was about the principle. And we also keep a united front to the rest of the school. The whole incident will be reported back to his father and Riddle. Doing it this way keeps him in their good books without compromising his real views.”

“But what about the book?”

“No one else other than Hermione and Flitwick know about it, so it’s not an issue for the rest of the school right now.”

Malfoy escorted Edgecombe to her usual seat among the Fourth-Year students and they bowed to each other, before she was engaged in conversation by her classmates.

For breakfast there was a smoothie for me—strawberry flavoured this time—and the protein enriched Bircher muesli for the other three. I noticed that a few others in the senior years also had some. Maybe we’d be the catalyst for finally getting a good range of healthy food onto the students’ tables.

As we headed out of the hall, Justin remembered that there had been a new Educational Decree announced last night, so we paused at the notice board in the Grand Foyer.

Educational Decree

Students shall not discuss their teachers with other members of school staff

By order

High Inquisitor Hogwarts

We looked at each other grimly. Had there been a listening charm that Flitwick had missed? I was going to be breaking this one nearly every time I had “remedial potions” with Snape.

“How are we supposed to integrate our learning across multiple fields?” asked Justin.

“And given the syllabus for Potions this year includes a fair whack of Herbology, that’s going to be difficult too,” said Neville.

“Hem, hem,” came from behind us.

I couldn’t help it, but the Stagnant’s word shot straight through my mind at that moment.

“Is there something you don’t understand about the Decree, gentlemen?” in her sweetest voice.

We turned and I found that, even at my shorter height, the pink ribbon was not even as high as my eyes.

Justin spoke up, “oh no, Professor. We understand it. We were merely discussing the best way of applying it at the times when we must demonstrate that we have integrated the various domains of our magical education into a single whole. After all, one of the stated goals of Hogwarts is to turn out well-rounded individuals who are able to flexibly work in many areas of life.”

“And as my learned friend, Mr. Longbottom, just mentioned, we will need to discuss what Professor Sprout is teaching us with Professor Snape in the areas where Herbology overlaps with Potions. The syllabi in these two subjects do overlap quite a lot,” said Malfoy.

“And, of course, some of the work we are doing in Charms overlaps with that in your own subject, Professor. For example, shield charms are taught in both Defence and Charms. Albeit for different purposes, but nevertheless at times we will have to discuss in our assignments what we have learned in the other class,” I offered.

Neville completed the set by gently saying, “there are of course other examples between our various subjects, but there is no point in wearying your ears with repetition of things that you are already well aware of.” And he said it so sincerely, that even I who knew him the best couldn’t detect a hint of sarcasm.

The bint just stood there opening and closing her mouth with no idea of what to answer. She then spotted Lee Jordan sidling past and turned to give him a good stare.

We made our own speedy departure and headed for the library with the intention of getting the rest of our assigned work completed before lunch. That way we’d have the rest of the day free, after the meeting with the goblins. Though I still needed to read Snape’s book properly—and catch up with the twins about Winky.

I pulled Slinkhard’s tome of inaccurate tedious mediocrity towards me, flipped to Chapter Two and started my precis. Forty minutes later I through down my quill, stretched, then commented, “Hope she’s satisfied with my stream of nonsense.”

The others just murmured, then went on with their work. I reached out and grabbed the paper for Sprout and started reading through it. I circled a couple of spelling mistakes and wrote some notes in the margins. However, Neville had done a brilliant job of the main draft. I had a sudden thought and scribbled at the end, “should we mention the classes of plants that this method won’t work for? Like trees and creepers? What about fungi and mosses? Could the technique also be extended to contaminants? If it could, then we could show how much bad stuff could be coped with and how much is too much.”

I put it back in Neville’s pile and then checked through the list of assignments that were due. I had a feeling that I’d missed one but couldn’t work out what it was. Then I realised and said, “shit, Aconite.”

The others looked up at me. “Well that statement’s a bit odd, given we’ve been writing that paper,” said Justin.

“Yes, but we’ve been so focused on that, that I’d forgotten Sprout wants two feet on the properties of Aconite.” Malfoy and Justin both looked startled, then panicked. “And it’s due tomorrow morning in the first class.”

Neville waved his hand airily and said, “I’ve not long finished mine. Here, use these four books. My page markers are still in there. It’ll be fine.”

“Neville, could we …?”

“No, Harry, if you copied from mine Pomona would know immediately. She always knew when you and Ron copied from Hermione.”

“You could use my Slinkhard precis in return.”

He laughed, “that’s no swap. We know that it’s arrant nonsense. I could copy out his headings and subheadings and still be eligible for an Acceptable. No, start reading.”

I sighed knowing defeat when I saw it and grabbed one of the books that the others hadn’t gotten to yet.

It wasn’t as bad as I had thought it would be and I soon had eighteen inches done. I was wondering how I would fill in the remaining six, when I realised that I hadn’t covered were-creatures. _The Monster Book of Monsters_ proved useful after all.

“Neville, does Sprout mind if we go over by a couple of inches?” I asked.

“No. Just don’t pull a Hermione and give her double with your footnotes on a separate scroll.”

We all sniggered at that

“Potter, these notes at the end of the paper. What do they actually say? If this the way you write for your essays, no wonder Snape splatters the red ink around.”

“I don’t remember word for word what I wrote, but I was wondering about possible extensions of the idea to levels of contaminants and also whether we should mention the classes of plants that it won’t work for.”

Neville’s face took on a musing look. “This could work for all sorts of things and could include reference collections.”

“What’s a reference collection?” asked Justin. “I mean I know what it is in a library, but that’s not what you mean, is it?”

“It kind of is, actually. The idea of a reference collection is to use it to identify something you found out in the wild. So, a reference of collection of shells would be used to cross reference a shell you pick up at the beach, but don’t know what it is. An herbarium does the same thing for plants, but because you can’t stop plants from going through the life cycle they’re captured at a point in time and dried and then mounted on huge sheets of paper. Some of the plants are also illustrated by artists before they’re dried. Some of the paintings are more artistic than representing reality.”

He paused for a moment, then leapt to his feet went across a few shelving bays and returned carrying a large leather-bound book.

“This is the first of a six-volume set of books called _Flora Londinensis_. This volume was published in 1777. Only 300 sets were ever produced and most of them have disappeared. I have no idea why the Hogwarts library has a copy, but here it is. Anyway, there is a description here of every native plant that could be found in the south of England and most of them have colour illustrations. Look,” and he opened it to a coloured illustration of a dead-nettle that was immediately familiar to me having had to dig it out of Aunt Petunia’s garden many times.

“Wait on Neville,” said Justin. “That picture’s been coloured in after the outline was printed.”

“Yes, all the illustrations are hand-coloured. They were done before the books were bound.”

He turned back a page and showed us the page of description of the plant. It was a mixture of Latin and English. Much of the English section was familiar because of having to describe plants for Herbology in much the same words.

“OK, so the description makes sense to you because you’ve seen the illustration, right?” We nodded. “But what does it look like in real life? How realistic is that shade of purple?”

“It’s not too bad, but the real thing is brighter somehow,” I said.

Malfoy nodded. “The flowers are a common ingredient for potions that reduce fevers, so I know it fairly well, too.”

“Oh. If I’d realised that, I would have tried to persuade my aunt that it wasn’t a weed, but a medicinal plant. I can’t think how many plants of it I’ve dug up. Don’t know where the seed source was.”

“OK,” said Neville. “Now imagine that you don’t know what it is when it appears in your garden. Do you keep it because it looks pretty? Do you dig it up because it looks like a nettle and it might sting? What does it look like as seedling? Does it change shape or habit as it grows? None of that information is here. And you still have to identify it before you can even read what’s written here about it.”

“What about photographs?” asked Justin. “They’re getting better and better.”

“Pull out those two photos you showed us the other day and put them side by side on the table. Now, just by looking at these photos, can you tell me which of these two guys is the taller?”

“Oh, I see what you mean.”

“Also, the colouration in the photos is quite different and yet we know that both Radcliffe and Lewis have about the same colour skin.”

“That’s partly about the light, isn’t it? And partly about the type of camera and the brand of film used,” I added.

“Exactly,” Neville responded. “So, if this idea of ours was to gain favour, we’d have collections of actual plants to compare with. And if it was done properly, we could show all the stages of a plant from seedling through to death.”

“Death? Why would someone need to know that?” asked Justin.

“Well, I know of one botanist who gets people bringing a decayed plant in a plastic bag to him and then he’s supposed to identify it. Sometimes that’s possible, but often not. I’m sure that he’s not the only one.”

“So, which plant groups would this idea not work with? I think Potter’s idea there would round the paper out nicely.”

“Well, lichens, mosses and liverworts are obvious starting points as they don’t change morphology, but just spread out.”

“Presumably symbionts would be difficult too, particularly if they’re things like root mycorrhiza on the Whomping Willow,” said Malfoy.

“Do we need to specify the really obvious examples, though?” I asked.

“Sometimes stating the obvious is a good thing—particularly in academic papers,” replied Neville. “And you can always start the section by saying, ‘at the risk of stating the obvious.’”

“You mean, much like you did earlier?” I said with a grin.

“Well, except that in a paper you’re not being ironic. Anyway, I think I can come up with a couple of paragraphs for this.”

“Alright, I’ll finish this essay for Sprout and leave you in peace to write it.”

Malfoy looked around as if wondering what to do, so I pulled out Snape’s book on Mind Clearance and pushed it across the table to him. He nodded his thanks and started reading, while Justin read through a couple of his essays.

Fifteen minutes later Neville put down his quill and cast the blotting charm before passing the manuscript over to Justin and Draco.

They read the new section together, then Justin said, “this is good Neville. You do write quite well, you know.”

Neville blushed and pulled the parchment over to me to read.

“I agree with the others. And I like the way you’ve covered my thought about contaminants and left it for another paper. I’d only thought about algae and things like that rather than insect damage. Even wizarding space must have limits to how much it can store with the contents still being retrievable.”

“Oh,” said Neville. “We’ve left out an important point.”

“What?” we asked.

“When the plant is placed under stasis for long-term purposes, should it be a sterile environment? Or can there be contaminating organisms?”

“Hmm, I guess intent might be involved,” said Malfoy.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Well, if the intent was to preserve the plant only or the plant and its immediate environment might make a difference. Probably needs some experimental data.”

“Huh,” said Justin. “Maybe we need to revert back to the original smaller idea and suggest that there’ll be a couple of follow-up papers on related topics.”

“You know, for four guys who didn’t think their idea was that big a deal, we’ve changed our tune a lot, eh?” I said. “I mean, we were reluctant enough about doing the one paper. Now, we’re talking at least three.”

“Hey, sorry to change the subject but, it’s a quarter past twelve, we’d better pack up and get some lunch before our afternoon recreations,” said Neville. “I’ll do some more tweaking on this later.”

~~~~

When we reached Flitwick’s office it was a couple of minutes before two. Stagnant was there chatting to his brother. He had an unrepentant look on his face, so I guessed that Flitwick was telling him off for using the swear word in front of me.

Right on the dot of two the fireplace flared, and two goblins stepped out. Flitwick pointed his wand at it and locked it off. “I have already placed sound control charms over the doors and have swept the room for listening charms, as has my brother.”

“Sir,” Justin asked. “Would you mind if I checked again?”

Flitwick gave him the go ahead and he looked carefully around the room and silently pointed at the ledge above the main door. Stagnant and Flitwick looked at each and shrugged, then neutralised it while Justin kept working around the room. He found two more, then asked “Have you also checked for muggle listening devices?”

The goblins all looked startled for a moment. “It is well thought, Mr. Finch-Fletchley,” said Stagnant.

Flitwick pulled out his wand and incanted “infra-ruber”, then started sweeping the room in wide arcs. There was a ping from his desk, which Stagnant quickly dealt with through the time-honoured method of placing the device on the floor and stomping on it with the heel of his boot. A second one, attached to a student’s essay, if you please, went the same way.

It looked like that was it, but Neville shook his head. “Sir, that plant over there. When did it get in here? It wasn’t here on Tuesday when we met with you to discuss our class options.”

“Oh, a grateful ex-student sent it to me. It arrived on Friday afternoon.”

“May I?” he asked. On receiving a nod, he went over to it, and pulsed a tiny amount of magic through it. The trunk split open and set of electronics revealed themselves. “Three cameras and four omni-directional microphones. May I destroy this, sir?”

Flitwick had paled and quickly gave permission. Neville used one of his special controlled incendio spells and with a series of odd crackles the plant and its contents became a small pile of ash on the floor.

It quickly became a game for us as we pulled up our memories of what the room had been like on Tuesday and then compared it with today. Between us we found another five devices, then Stagnant inspected the ceiling and we took out two more along with some more charms.

A good ten minutes later we were sure we had now found everything that we could within our abilities.

“Cousin Filius, that was quite a revelation in itself,” said the older of the two Goblins who had come through the fireplace. “It would appear that someone was determined to listen in today. I consider myself privileged to have witnessed the coordination of skills demonstrated by yourself and your esteemed students. Well met, Mr. Potter.” Then he nodded at the others and greeted them. “Heir Malfoy, Heir Longbottom, Mr. Finch-Fletchley, not that you will retain those titles for many more months, if my reading of the situation is correct.”

Griphook said, “and when, sir, did you last get such a thing wrong?”

“In 1929, young one. The Wall Street crash came a week earlier than I had predicted. It set back my career by two years.

“However, to these wizards we are talking ancient history. They want to know what is happening now. Before we do that though, we do need to cover some history. Have you yet heard of Grobwitt?”

“Yes sir, Professor Binns has just covered him in our History of Magic class.”

“Binns? Filius, why is that man still teaching? He doesn’t need the salary.”

“The Headmaster is saving money that way, I believe.”

“Saving money,” croaked the old goblin. “Balderdash, to quote the younger generation. Money is being paid to the role of Professor of History, and that man could never understand the finer points of the wars.”

Griphook coughed gently.

“What’s that? Well yes, I suppose you are right young Griphook, that’s not what we’re here for. Now, so you’ve at least heard of Grobwitt. Have you been told of the wizard he trained?”

“Ah, yes sir. But we were told that there were four who he trained and that they had a magical affinity.”

“Yes, yes. He only started with the one though and then out of that training the other three were found and joined in. At any rate, that one was your direct ancestor Mr. Potter. And he left instructions for us to contact you on your reaching your first majority—which, of course, you reached some time ago. Had we done as instructed we could have prevented some of what showed on the Battle Master’s parchment on Friday. In fact, had we realised this link we might even have prevented the occurrences that happened during your minority. For this oversight the Goblin Nation offers our humblest apologies and will reimburse the heavy costs and toll this has taken upon your person.”

“But sir, the battles took place nearly five hundred years ago. How could this ancestor of mine known about me?”

“Ah, Mr. Potter, there are many mysteries that surround your life, and at present this is but another.”

“What was on the parchment, sir?”

Malfoy immediately pulled out a potion vial. “If what I suspect to be on there is true, you’re going to need this.” He turned to the others in the room, “it’s a Calming Draught made by Professor Snape.”

“That’s as well. Yes, Mr. Potter, taking that is likely to be a good idea.”

Once I had knocked it back Shankford continued, “the way the drop of blood broke up and scattered itself widely was the first indication that there were some issues. This only happens where there are multiple unresolved health problems.”

So that explained Stagnant’s first swear.

“Then the content confirmed that you have been physically and psychologically assaulted many times, the majority by those most closely related to you. There were of course your encounters with that half-arsed human who calls himself a dark lord, along with the various rough and tumble incidents of the Quidditch Pitch, although quite how you came to lose all the bones in your left arm during a match, I am at a loss to understand. You have not been given a chance to heal properly from most of these incidents and at times just keeping yourself upright has leeched your magical core very badly. In addition, there are other leechings caused by some very dark magic being thrown around, some in Surrey, some in London and some here at Hogwarts.”

Despite the calming potion, I could feel myself beginning to close up. Neville spotted it and came across and held me from behind. “I’ve got your back, Harry,” he whispered.

“Sir,” said Justin. “I don’t think that Harry will cope with much more of your description.”

“Griphook, you were right to recommend the invitation of Mr. Potter’s companions to this meeting. You have just earned a pay grade.”

Griphook acknowledged his Manager with a toothy grin and then tipped his head back until it was horizontal. When he returned to his normal posture, he appeared to have grown taller. At some point I was going to have to read up on Goblin physiology, but that was a matter for another day.

“Sir, who else knows the content of that parchment?” I asked. And I could feel myself sweating.

“Other than us, Mr. Potter, only two other Goblins—Starfling, the European regional manager of Gringotts and His Most Imperial Majesty Nuglik the Second. It is only with their permission that I have come here to see you.”

I turned to Flitwick, “and, Professor, who else needs to find out what it says? Because I sure as hell don’t want my adoring public in the form of Rita Skeeter getting her grubby little wings on that. I need it kept as tight as possible.”

“At the present time, I can’t see any reason for any other wixen knowing even of its existence, let alone its content,” he replied in a calm even voice.

“Wings?” asked Malfoy with a quirked eyebrow.

“Uh yeah. She’s an unregistered beetle animagus. That’s how she was getting all those stories last year. Actually, it’s how she gets all her scoops. At the moment Hermione has her under control with the threat to expose her to the Ministry.”

“Granger is blackmailing a journalist? Now, that’s an unexpected turn-up,” he sneered. “I thought she was too good to do things like that.”

It was Neville who responded. “Nah, Hermione has as warped a sense of honour and morals as every other one of us. It just comes out in different places to us.”

Whoa, I thought. Neville is a hell of lot more insightful than anyone’s given him credit for.

“Alright, moving on then. What were the instructions that my ancestor left with you?”

“Let me read the document to you,” was Shankford’s response as he pulled a scroll out of his briefcase. “Now, let’s see.” He adjusted his spectacles and squinted down at the unfurled document.

> “I, Harold James Potter, do instruct ye Masters of Gringotts that do be in ye City of London to keepe watch for a sonne to be borne of my lineage that do be named as I am. In a time of great peril unto ye Magicke Nations of ye Worlde shall He arise. Afford you unto hym all ye honure and succor that is due unto One who is ye onlie man that doth stand twixt ye Goblin Nations and ye Pitte of Annihilation while also, withe hys most powerful and dread Companyons of his hearte, he doth stand in Sylence against ye Most Dreadful Lords of Darknesse that have yet stalked ye Earthe.
> 
> “Masters of Gringotts, do you seeke out him afore Hys first Majoritie and take hym under the especial care of ye Nations of the Goblins, for you shall have much neede of hym. Train hym to take up hys destined role in ridding ye world of Eville. Grant hym and no other afore hym access to ye vault ye key doth ope.
> 
> “See that you Masters of Gringotts do faithfully carry out thys my commission and fail not hym lest ye Worlde that is held so Dear unto you should faile unto the utmost.

“And he has signed it using a Blood Quill.”

There was silence in the room as we digested that, before Shankford spoke again, “Mr. Potter, I am obliged to repeat the apologies of both Gringotts Bank and the Goblin Nation for having failed you. In recompense, the services of the Battle Master are provided to you and your companions completely gratis, the Bank will fund a complete private health check and all that is required to restore you to complete health, Griphook is removed from all other accounts he was managing and is to be dedicated solely to improving your personal interests and those of the Potter estate, and,” he heaved a sigh, “I am to take a pay cut of ten percent for a time period equal to the time that we have neglected to perform our duty to you. Those monies will be invested with the sole purpose of benefitting you.”

My glance happened to catch both Malfoy and Neville who were sitting there with gaping mouths.

“Mr. Shankford, sir,” said Malfoy. “Those terms are very generous. In all my training in such matters from my father and my ancestors’ portraits I have never heard of such a thing.”

“Indeed, Mr. Malfoy, but these are exceedingly unusual circumstances, particularly as all parts of the Magical World are in such danger. The fact that the four of you are foretold to be the only ones who can protect us from that danger has to be worth a lot.”

“How did these instructions come to hand at this time? I do hope we’re not dealing with a _deus ex machina_,” asked Justin.

“My regular secretary has fallen ill, and her replacement would appear to be somewhat more efficient, for she turned out a drawer in my office and found the scroll. It was supposed to be opened and read every ten years by the Branch Manager and also at taking over the role. I could not recall having seen it before, despite having been Branch Manager now for thirty-two years. You can imagine my feelings on opening and reading it.”

“And what is in that vault that my ancestor referred to?”

“That is a mystery at present, for not even we have a record of what he placed there. We know that he made a total of five visits to the vault in the week prior to depositing this document with the London Branch Manager of the time. On each of those times when he passed through the _Thief’s Downfall_ nothing was revealed. You will need to make a special journey to Gringotts to access the vault as it is in an area where the regular cart drivers are not permitted to go. Griphook will arrange a time with you and your Head of House to visit.

“A further mystery about you is why your parents’ wills were never opened upon their death.”

“Oh, I can answer that,” I said airily. “The Headmaster chose not to.”

To be continued ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to break off there, but the chapter is too long otherwise.


	15. Meeting with Gringott's: Part II

End of last chapter:

_“A further mystery about you is why your parents’ wills were never opened upon their death.”_

_“Oh, I can answer that,” I said airily. “The Headmaster chose not to.”_

Griphook and Stagnant spluttered at that.

“You see sir, he wanted to be my magical guardian. For what purpose we haven’t yet determined, but it was only yesterday that I even found out that he is my guardian.”

“Well Mr. Potter, you have reached your first majority and under International Magical Law you have the right to decide whether to have them opened now or at some point in the future.”

I thought for a moment, then asked permission to consult with my classmates. Shankford nodded and I gathered the other guys around me. “Malfoy?”

He knew what I meant and put up the noise-blocking charm.

“What happens if I find out something really bad?”

“Then you go through it just like you have every other bad situation you’ve been put through,” said Justin.

“Look, Harry, the worst it could be is that what’s happened to you was the plan. And that’s not likely, is it?”

“Loath as I am to agree with Longbottom on something, I think he’s right.”

“Okay, let’s do it then.”

Malfoy cancelled his spell and I walked over to the group of goblins. “Let’s open them now, starting with my father’s.”

“Very well, Mr. Potter. Griphook?”

Griphook opened his briefcase and pulled out a sealed scroll. “One drop of blood onto the middle of the seal please Harry.” At the look of surprise on everyone’s faces, he said, “at our first meeting Mr. Potter gave me permission to call him Harry. One of the rare times a wizard has so honoured me.”

The drop of blood fell, and the seal twisted to the left then slid up allowing the scroll to spring open. A male voice started speaking. It sounded distant, like the speaker wasn’t using a microphone properly.

> “The Last Will and Testament of I, James Ignotus Cadmus Antioch Potter, current master of the Potter estates, both magical and mundane, and currently resident of Godrics Hollow.
> 
> “Being of sound mind and body, blah blah, etc. I rescind all former wills and codicils, leaving this to be my final testamentary document.
> 
> “I leave 200,000 galleons to Remus Lupin to use to buy that cottage and put on it all the required protections.
> 
> “I leave 20,000 galleons to Sirius Black, not because he needs it, but because he wouldn’t take it when he did.
> 
> “I leave 3 knuts to Peter Pettigrew as a measure of the esteem in which I hold him. Secret Keeper? Hah!
> 
> “To Albus Dumbledore I leave the combined odour of several farts as an expression of the high regard in which I hold him.”

We four couldn’t repress a snigger at that.

> “All family heirlooms and properties that cannot be left away from the Potter family are to remain in trust for my son and heir Harry. On his first majority he should be given access to vault 736A so that he can learn of his heritage and start to learn to manage the family’s possessions. On his second majority, vault 736B; then upon attaining either his twenty-first birthday or fulfilling his destiny, he shall be given access to all of the other vaults. At the time of writing this, seven in total, but it is likely to be more by that time.
> 
> “To my darling and most beautiful wife, Lily, I leave everything else. Should she predecease me and I have no chance to update this will, then it will all go to Harry.
> 
> “Note that nothing, absolutely nothing from my estates, either the Potter or my personal, shall be used for the purposes of the Order of the Phoenix.
> 
> “Should we have both deceased before Harry reaches his first majority, then the guardian list for Harry is:
> 
> “1. Alice Longbottom  
“2. Frank Longbottom  
“3. Severus Snape  
“4. Minerva McGonagall  
“5. Marlene McKinnon  
“6. Rolanda Hooch
> 
> “Under no circumstances must Albus Dumbledore or Petunia Dursley be allowed anywhere near my son’s life. Hopefully by the time he reaches Hogwarts, Dumbledore will have been found out and forced to leave the school.
> 
> “I, James Potter, on my magic do swear this document to be my only will and fully representative of my intentions.
> 
> “So stated and sworn on this seventeenth day of October in the year nineteen eighty one of the Common Era.”

There was complete silence in the room as we processed this. Then spontaneously all four of us—Malfoy included—gathered into a group hug. And at that moment I knew that I would get through this. I had a formidable team on my side.

Then I asked the most important question, “what the hell had Dumbledore done to cause that from my father?”

There being no answer forthcoming, I drew a deep breath, then said, “alright, let’s move onto Mum’s.”

Again, a single drop of blood was required to unseal the document. As the parchment sprang open, a voice I already knew from hearing her scream “not Harry” so many times thanks to the dementors came softly through the room.

> “The Last Will and Testament of Lily Judith Evans Potter, currently resident of Godrics Hollow.
> 
> “Being of sound mind I make my testamentary intentions and commit them this document to be deposited with the London Branch of Gringotts. This document replaces all previous wills, testaments and codicils.
> 
> “I don’t have much money of my own to leave, so my legacies are mostly chattels and possessions.
> 
> “To Narcissa Black Malfoy, I leave my complete Herbology collections: books, plants and seed bank. She will know how best to use it to advance my plans and dreams.
> 
> “To Remus Lupin, my dear Protector, I leave my Defence collection: books and equipment. Use it to protect our world from the dark lords of our time.
> 
> “To Severus Snape, my first and best friend, I leave my Charms collection: manuscripts, books and equipment. Use them to complete the work we began. No matter what happens to us, Harry will need you as well as that work.
> 
> “To my beloved mentors, Filius Flitwick and Minerva McGonagall, I leave my Potions collection: books, manuscripts and equipment, along with the reference set of potions in vault 737C. You will find the most practical uses for them.
> 
> “The residuary of my estate I leave to my dear husband, James Potter. Should he predecease me and I am not able to update or replace this document, then it will all go to my son Harry. Harry may have access to vault 737A when he starts school at Hogwarts. Vault 737B holds items that will only be of interest to his life companion whomever he or she may be. The remainder of the contents of vault 737C should only be inspected by Harry when he fulfils his destiny. Shankford, the London Branch Manager will know when to allow access.
> 
> “In the event that both James and I decease prior to Harry reaching his first majority the list of guardians shall be:
> 
> “1. Alice and Frank Longbottom (together or separately, as circumstances dictate);  
“2. Severus Snape  
“3. Minerva McGonagall  
“4. Marlene McKinnon  
“5. Rolanda Hooch  
“6. Narcissa Malfoy
> 
> “Under absolutely no circumstances are my sister Petunia and that wanker she married to be involved in the care or upbringing of Harry. I have already verbally advised Headmaster Dumbledore, Minister Fudge and Sirius Black of this.
> 
> “Mention of the Headmaster reminds me, he must always remain no closer than 50 feet from Harry at all times. That is the distance of the Head Table in the Great Hall to the middle of the House tables. I do not trust him to have Harry’s best interests in mind except when it suits some daft plan of his.
> 
> “I, Lily Evans Potter, on my magic do swear this document to be my only will and fully representative of my intentions.
> 
> “So stated and sworn on this fourteenth day of October in the year nineteen eighty one of the Common Era.”

A respectful silence blanketed the room for a minute or so after her voice ceased.

“Malfoy, yesterday when you were explaining how guardianship worked you didn’t mention what happens when someone is orphaned after their first majority.”

“That’s because I didn’t know there would be something different. Those are the first guardian lists I’ve ever heard.”

“Mr. Shankford, sir, are you able to help me understand what should happen? Who is supposed to be assisting me with managing my life between now and my second majority?”

“There is no firm guidance in these matters. Also, most guardianships are stated to be through to the second majority, your parents’ statements are unusual. Young Griphook, you have more experience in this area than I do.”

“Thank you, sir. Harry, there are two precedent examples in recent times that I can think of. The first is that of Seraphina Picquery, President of MACUSA a few years back. She was orphaned at the age of fourteen when her mother was lynched for being a witch. She chose to be mentored by the third option on her mother’s list.

“The second example is that of Sturgis Podmore. His parents were killed during a raid by one of Grindelwald’s henchmen. He was fifteen at the time and he chose the fourth on his parent’s list, who happened to be his Transfiguration Professor, Albus Dumbledore.”

“Well that would explain why Podmore’s an arse-licker of the first order,” I commented. “Neville’s parents are out thanks to Bellatrix and Marlene McKinnon died before my parents, if I remember correctly. So that leaves three Hogwarts teachers and Mrs. Malfoy.”

“With Tom Riddle living at the Manor and the way my father seems to be brown-nosing him, I don’t think asking my mother is a good idea at present.”

“Nonetheless,” I said, “I would like to meet her properly. How good is her occlumency?”

“Far better than Father’s. Not as good as Uncle Severus’ of course, but pretty good.”

I turned to Flitwick. “Professor, how practical would it be to arrange a meeting with Professors Snape, McGonagall and Hooch as well as Mrs. Malfoy?”

“All at the same time?”

“Preferably. Then we can work out the guardianship issue just once.”

“I think cousin Shankford, that such a meeting should happen in one of the secure rooms attached to your offices. It would be too risky here.”

“I agree, Filius. The meeting for the legatees should also happen there. I think that if I send the demand to attend the two meetings, then neither the Headmaster nor the High Inquisitor can object to having four members of staff away at the same time. We do not need to invite Pettigrew or Dumbledore as their legacies are minor and the bank can deal with them directly—yes, including a vial of bowel gases.”

“The one awkward thing will be having Sirius Black and Professor Snape in the same room listening to those wills being read,” I said. “Sirius has assumed that he would be my guardian because he’s my godfather and he and Snape hate each other—although I haven’t found out why yet.”

“That’s alright, Harry,” said Neville. “We’ll angle things so that it’s about protecting you from those who should never have had control in the first place.”

“Which reminds me,” said Justin. “Is there a way of enacting Mrs. Potter’s fifty feet provision now?”

“As it happens, yes,” came from Stagnant. Then he and Griphook worked together to weave some Goblin magic around me. As they did it, I got the sensation of someone screaming in pain followed by swift footsteps.

“Umm, I think the Headmaster was closer to us than fifty feet at that moment and he had to scamper.”

Flitwick picked up a brass cylinder and pointed it at the corridor outside his office. “You are right, Mr. Potter. He was indeed just outside the door and attempting to probe my spells. He is now down at the corner looking discomforted.”

“Oh dear,” I said mildly. “That was an unintended consequence, wasn’t it?”

A shout of laughter came from the other three guys and Flitwick grinned.

Griphook tapped his briefcase a couple of times and pulled from it a couple of scrolls. “Harry,” he said as he handed them to me. “These are listings of the contents of the vaults that your parents intended you to have access to. This is the one for 737A, that was your mother’s. And this is for 736A, which contains some of the Potter heirlooms. The vault also has keys to some of the Potter holdings. Those are listed on the scroll as well.”

“Thank you Griphook,” and I bowed to him. I turned to Shankford, “sir, may I request that the meetings be held next Sunday afternoon? And that my friends here present are also invited?”

“Yes, Heir Potter, that would be prudent and presumably would remain clear of your school obligations.”

“I think so. I also think it would be the easiest time for the four teachers to be present, without causing too many problems back here,” I said. “Oh, and Griphook? Could you please check if any monies or other resources from the Potter estates have gone to the Order of the Phoenix in the last 14 years? If they have, are we able to recall them or demand repayment?”

He pulled a calculator out of his briefcase and entered some numbers. It disgorged a strip of paper about a foot long. When he read it, his eyes lit up in glee.

“The Headmaster has been taking money from the Potter accounts at the rate of 5,000 Galleons a month for the Order of the Phoenix. That equates to approximately 840,000 Galleons. I would be more than happy to order a repayment of the loan.”

I looked over at the other three to meet with sharp nods. “Yes, please do that.”

“Now, there is just one other matter to deal with before we end this meeting. And that is co-ordinating the training that all four of you now require.”

Justin piped up, “you may not need to worry about that sir. We have received communications from someone called Te Awhiorangi who is offering to provide someone from his organisation to oversee this.”

Shankford’s eyebrows shot up. “He has already heard? I knew his networks rivalled ours, but not to that extent. Have you assented?”

“Only in principle. We want to make sure he’s genuine and not just a tool of Tom Riddle.”

“These are dark times indeed when young wizards distrust the Grand Master. You need have no fear of Te Awhiorangi or any man he might send to assist you. There are none within the Order that I would not trust with my life.”

With that he and Griphook prepared for their departure then gave the standard Goblin farewell, “may your gold ever flow.”

The others responded, “and may your enemies fall at your feet.”

However, I decided to experiment a little. “And may the blood of your enemies be a river that carries you to the halls of your ancestors.”

Shankford bowed in return to that and was gone with Griphook.

Flitwick quickly locked the fireplace again, then checked the corridor with his brass instrument. “The way is clear, get you going.”

“Before we do, sir, will you alert the other teachers to the likelihood of listening devices and charms in their offices, classrooms and possibly quarters?” asked Malfoy.

And Justin said, “there were several different magical residues, sir, so they were not all from the same source.”

“Yes, I will do so. It would be impossible for you gentlemen to plausibly explain how you know.”

And with that the meeting was over. We headed back to our room ignoring a bleated “Harry, my boy” from the other direction.

When we got there I said, “I suppose we’d better check this room for listening charms and devices.”

“If there are any, we need to track their source. Listening to a room of four fifteen-year-old boys is too perverted even for the current Ministry to stomach,” said Malfoy.

“Not to mention the fact that there is specific legislation in place against placing any form of monitoring in students’ bedrooms beyond the standard protections that Hogwarts has built in,” added Neville.

“How do you know that, Neville?” asked Justin.

He caught my eye and we both chanted, “I read it in _Hogwarts: A History_. When are you going read it?” Then we laughed.

“I take it that that’s another Grangerism.”

Justin started working the room in his way, while Neville incanted “infra-ruber” and swung his wand in wide arcs. In the meantime, Malfoy and I both used our visual memories to compare. Justin found one spell lurking over the door to the bathroom and Neville found two active devices over the area where our desks were.

“So, what do we do about these?” asked Justin.

“Leave that to me,” I said. “Dobby.”

There was a pop and Dobby appeared in the room. “Yes, kind Harry Potter? How can Dobby be helping the wonderful Harry Potter?”

I knelt down and said to him, “we need your help with tracking some magic. Someone has put a listening spell in here—it’s over the door to the bathroom. Before we destroy it, we want to know who put it there.”

His already wide eyes widened further. “But, Harry Potter, that is illegal. That spell should not be there.”

“We know, that’s why we want to know who put it there.”

He clicked his fingers and drew something in the air with his other hand. “Oh no, Dobby will have to punish himself, for he has seen what no House Elf should have seen.” And he looked around desperately for something to hit himself with.

“Dobby,” I said firmly as I grabbed him by the arm. “I forbid you to punish yourself. I order you now to tell us what you have seen.”

“The spell was put there by the Headmaster only two hours ago. There was a sneaking spell over him.” Dobby’s fingers twisted convulsively in his tea-towel as his desire to punish himself warred with my orders. “Dobby has seen the spell trail. Dobby will not survive this night if Headmaster finds Dobby has told Harry Potter.”

“Why won’t you survive?”

“Headmaster will punish free-elf Dobby with green light spell.”

I looked up at the others. “Justin, block the spell. Neville, block the two devices.” They complied.

“Alright, Neville, you win your argument about owls, etc. Malfoy come over here, it’s time to bring the bond back to life.

“Dobby, you never were a free-elf. You were freed, it’s true, from Lucius Malfoy. But he wasn’t your true bond-master.” His eyes turned to me. “Your true bond-master was and is Draco Malfoy. While that bond was weak you have bonded to me as well. That means you have two bond-masters.”

“No,” and his face took on a mulish look. “Dobby is a free-elf. Dobby is getting paid for his hard work now. Dobby doesn’t want bond-masters.”

Draco reached out and touched Dobby on the right shoulder with his left index finger and said, “but Dobby, where are my clock socks?”

“Your socks with the clocks is in the box behind the fox, Master Draco,” and he giggled.

Then the other shoulder, “but I don’t need a bath. I already had two today.”

“But Master Draco, you smell like it was in mud you had your bath.”

“I loves you Dobby.”

“I loves you too, Master Draco, more’n anyone else in the whole wide world.” Then Dobby burst into tears and threw himself into Draco’s waiting arms.

Neither of them saw Justin and Neville give each other a high-five. I frowned at them, but they just shrugged back at me.

“Dobby,” said Malfoy. “If the Headmaster orders you to do anything, he is wrong. He cannot order you, only I or Master Harry can do that. We will protect you from him.”

The inevitable wail of gratitude was heard, but for once it didn’t matter. Dobby was finally back where he belonged.

“I hate to interrupt this reunion, but there are two devices that need dealing with.” Malfoy nodded, and directed Dobby’s attention back to me.

“Yes, Master Harry Potter?”

“Dobby, we need to know where the two listening devices came from. Are you able to detect a trail on them also?”

He did the drawing in the air thing again, then stumbled back. “This is very bad. A girl has been in here when yous was not watching. She is the bad girl that the House punished. But they not from her first. Oh, Master Draco, you must not stay here anymore,” and he broke off to cry.

“Why not, Dobby?”

“Something wicked this way comes.”

We could get no more out of him other than wails of terror on behalf of his beloved Master Draco.

“Justin,” asked Neville. “Can you _see_ anything of what Dobby is talking about?”

“I can see some magical residues, but I can’t identify them.”

I had an idea. “Justin? Could you compare them with what we found in our meeting? Are there any matches?”

“Oh. Hmm. Let me think—yes, there is a match. But how does that help?”

“Now, think back to the first Potions class and the student who couldn’t brew. Were there any residues on them?”

“You’re on to it. Yes, that’s a match.”

“Malfoy, we need to calm Dobby down enough for him to help us with a job. It’s a very important job, that I need him to do, so he needs to be able to understand it.” I winked at him over Dobby’s head, for Dobby had heard me through his cries and was pulling himself together so that he could be told what the important job was.

“Master Harry Potter has a very important job for Dobby to do?”

“Yes, I need you to find Professor Flitwick and get him to come here and bring the other Heads of House with him. It is very important that they understand the danger that their students are in. I know this is a difficult thing to do, but …”

He puffed his chest out. “This is not difficult for Dobby to do.” And he raised his hand ready to disapparate.

“Before you go, Dobby, on this important mission,” I quickly said. “We need you to come back here as well.”

“Very well, Master Harry Potter, Master Draco.” And with a pop he was gone.

While we waited, I started reading Snape’s book properly. I had already scanned through it to get an idea of the contents, but I hadn’t grasped the concepts yet. I was well into Chapter Two when Dobby came back looking very pleased with himself.

“House Heads on their way, Master Harry Potter.”

“That was quick of you.”

He looked a little sheepish. “I got Anaï to help me a little.”

“And clever of you to get help.”

Before Dobby could bounce or squeak in pleasure at being complimented a knock came at the door.

“Saved by the knock,” muttered Justin as he went over to open the door.

All four Heads were there, looking puzzled at why we had asked for them.

“Thank you for coming so quickly, Professors. There are some matters of concern in here and we wish to be sure that they are witnessed by independent adults who are less likely to be accused of having fanciful ideas,” I started.

Justin took over. “May I draw your attention to the listening spell over the bathroom door?”

Sprout and McGonagall looked horrified, and I thought ‘just wait until you see the muggle devices, then.’

Snape inspected it and confirmed what Dobby had found. “It’s been in here less than three hours and has the Headmaster’s magical signature on it. I see that you’ve blocked it from functioning Mr. Finch-Fletchley, but not removed it.”

“No sir. Dobby,” and he pointed at the House Elf, “told us the same things you have just said, and we thought it best that it was checked and verified.”

“Very well,” and Snape waved his wand and destroyed the charm.

“Now, we also have a couple of muggle monitoring devices over here,” said Neville. “This one is capable of transmitting both visual and audio; and this one is audio only. The one with visuals has three cameras in it. We have physically blocked them, but again not destroyed them.”

All four adults looked sickened by this news.

“When I asked Dobby if he could detect where they came from, he said that they were placed here by the bad girl that the House punished, but they didn’t come from her. When we asked him who they came from he went into a panic attack and all he would say was ‘something wicked this way comes.’ Justin has compared the magical residues with those in his memory and there is a match with the residue that was on the hand of the person you treated with murtlap at our first Potions class.”

“You are wording your statements very carefully, Mr. Potter,” said Flitwick.

“Yes sir, just because we only found these does not mean that there are no others in this room or the adjoining bathroom.”

“Or inserted in the walls of the neighbouring rooms,” said Justin.

Malfoy chipped in at this point, “an additional piece of information we think you ought to know is that when Dobby found the Headmaster’s signature on the listening spell, he was sure that he had been a bad elf. Apparently if the Headmaster was to find out that Dobby had told us who planted the charm, then Dobby would be punished with the green light spell.”

Sprout and McGonagall both gasped and Sprout began to sink to the floor. Neville quickly conjured a chair for her to sit on.

In the meantime, Snape and Flitwick were testing the devices.

“We cannot conclusively verify your conclusions as to the source, but it does look very likely,” opined Snape.

Flitwick nodded, “yes, and there are also matches with those that were in my office.”

“In your office, Filius?” said Professor McGonagall faintly.

“Yes, I had a curriculum meeting with these four students at two o’clock this afternoon and it would appear that some people were interested in hearing the content of that meeting. There were multiple listening spells and muggle devices throughout my office. I was going to let you and the rest of the staff know across this evening so that you could check your own offices and classrooms. Now, it looks like we’re going to need to check our chambers as well.”

“Would it be alright if I destroyed these now?” asked Neville, waving at the devices.

“Yes, certainly Mr. Longbottom, although please be careful about it given your aptitude for widespread damage.”

Well, you can’t keep Snape from snarking, not even when faced with what amounts to a crisis.

Neville once again used his special version of incendio and, with a small amount of electric type crackling, the devices were neatly reduced to piles of ash. Snape’s eyes widened slightly as he took in this demonstration of highly controlled magic from his least favourite dunderhead. ‘Hah,’ I thought, ‘we can cause you to be surprised.’

“Careful, Mr. Potter, your thoughts are leaking,” he said mildly, then went on, “I take it, Draco, that you have renewed your bond with Dobby.” On seeing Malfoy’s nod, he sighed and then went on, “in that case, the next task should be more straightforward. Obviously the four of you cannot remain resident in this chamber and will need to move to a new one. What do you have available Filius?”

“On this floor, nothing. However, there is a spare chamber for five on the next floor. Anaï!”

The House Elf shimmered into view. “Yaas Maaster Flittywick.”

“Anaï and Dobby, would you please go up to the spare chamber on the next floor and prepare it for these four gentlemen to reside in? Then come back and let us know when it’s ready.”

There was a pop and a shimmer as the two disappeared. In the meantime, Draco got a thoughtful look on his face. “Sir, to prevent suspicion could we rig it so that we continue appear to go to this room, but actually enter the new room?”

Flitwick looked over at McGonagall, “Minerva, you’re the staff member with the most control over Hogwarts’ rooms. Is that possible?”

“Yes, but how would that stop others from doing what they’ve already done?”

“Rune wards,” said Justin promptly. “If the ward knows us it takes us to the right room, if it doesn’t they come in here. We set up this room to look like a typical room for a bunch of guys—all topsy-turvy and higgledy-piggledy—and they won’t know any different.”

“But the Headmaster can get in anywhere he wants to—because he’s the Headmaster,” replied McGonagall.

“That’s why it needs to be a Rune ward, and not an ordinary redirection ward.”

“Filius, I’m not sure what you’ve done with the dunderheads I’ve been teaching in Potions for the past four years, but there appears to have been an exchange somewhere.”

“Uncle Severus!” exclaimed Malfoy.

“Truly, putting the four of you together in Ravenclaw is the most intelligent move the Hat has made in years. I will be interested to see what you have achieved by the end of the year.” That was Professor McGonagall.

“Shall we set up this ward?” asked Professor Sprout. “I want to get back to my badgers and see what shenanigans have been got up to in their rooms.”

“As soon as Anaï and Dobby have returned we’ll be able to do it, otherwise they’ll be lost on the wrong side and we won’t be able to retrieve them,” said Flitwick.

“Whoops. Sorry, I need to curb my eagerness.”

Snape turned and saw what I had been reading, and he nodded at me in apparent approval. I began to wonder if this was all a dream and that I would wake up soon under the stairs ready to cook breakfast again. A pop announced Dobby’s return and Anaï was close behind him.

“We has done preparing the room.”

“Excellent, now kindly move their belongings up there,” requested Flitwick.

The two House Elves reached out their right hands and touched each other at the fingertips. After a pause, they spun in a quick circle in opposite directions then touched again. They then moved independently around the room clicking fingers and twitching ears as our stuff vanished from view. When they had finished, they came back together and reversed their initial actions, this time using their left hands.

“That, gentlemen, was a rare opportunity to witness the temporary creation of magical affinity and how it can be used to co-ordinate a task,” offered Flitwick.

Hm, I thought, ever the teacher. However, it was interesting.

“Now, Anaï and Dobby, we need you to help us turn this room into a typical fifteen-year-old’s bedroom. You know, messy. Once that’s done, we’ll set up some portal magic.”

We set to creating a mess. I checked that my cloak and the map had been moved while looping some conjured underwear over a pole on my former bed. By the time we’d finished, the room could have been in Gryffindor with Ron and Seamus alongside us.

Flitwick and Snape in the meantime had woven a net of magic over the door frame and then caused it to seep into the wood. We all then left and working together they rapidly completed the task. I recognised three of the letters they used, but the other two were unfamiliar. Justin, however, was nodding so I guessed that I would cover them in the next few weeks as I did the catchup work.

The four of us were keyed to the wards, as was Professor Flitwick, by tracing the rune on the lintel on our foreheads. Then we each tapped the lintel with our wands and the runes quietly vanished. I could feel myself distantly aware of the door and that there were non-keyed people hanging around it.

“That sensation of awareness of the door will only be there when all five of us are together and contemplating it. If it was there all the time it would be a nuisance, as every time someone passed the door we would get an alert. It also means that someone other than we five can only pass through to your Chamber if the five of us agree. Until Mr. Longbottom or Mr. Finch-Fletchley bond a House Elf, the only two who can enter your Chamber are Dobby and Anaï.”

Justin spoke up, “Professors McGonagall, Sprout and Snape, we invite you to enter our Chamber to satisfy yourselves that it meets with your exacting standards.”

I felt the tingle of magic wash over me as it checked that I was in agreement and Justin then opened the door. There was an odd perception as I saw both rooms simultaneously until I stepped through the door and I was in the new chamber.

“That was a bit like that scene in _The Magician’s Nephew_ when Polly and Diggory were in the land with all the pools,” said Justin.

Only Snape seemed to have any idea what he was talking about, but we shrugged it off and looked around. The room was bigger than the one we had been using, which gave us a bit more space. The House Elves had taken away the extra bed and desk but had left the bookshelf that went with them. The attached bathroom had an extra handbasin but was otherwise the same.

I felt a tugging on my sleeve and looked down to see Dobby wanting my attention. I knelt down to listen to him.

“Great Master Harry Potter, you is needing much better clothes than you has. Why is your clothes so much bigger than you are? This is not being right.”

This wasn’t something I was prepared to discuss right then, linked as it was to my false guardians. Particularly not with two of my potential true guardians in the room. “Let’s discuss this another time, Dobby—when I’ve had time to settle in here and get used to the new routines of the year.”

“Very well, Great Master Harry Potter, but don’t you be thinking that Dobby will forget.”

Fortunately, Neville spoke up at that moment. “Dobby, I know that you have bonded with Draco and Harry and that your primary concern is to look after them. While only you and Anaï can get into this Chamber, I wonder if you would be prepared to help look after Justin and me. We don’t want to impose on your kindness, but we would be very appreciative.”

I could see that Anaï was bristling a little, but Justin got in quickly. “It’s not that Anaï can’t do it, but he is a very busy House Elf as he keeps an eye on all of Ravenclaw House and makes sure that everyone is looked after by the others. So, it would help him a lot if he were to know that someone he could trust was dealing with this room.”

That mollified Anaï and I could see Dobby’s chest swelling at the thought of being trusted by one of the most senior House Elves in Hogwarts.

“Yes, Masters’ Great and True Friends, I will help Anaï with looking after yous both. I is deeply honoured to be helping.”

“Very well,” said Flitwick. “Anaï, will you please prepare the usual quarters for Ravenclaw students’ bonded House Elves? Dobby must not remain in the general quarters anymore and should quietly move during the dinner service tonight.”

“Yaas, Maaster Flitywick.”

He gave Dobby a particular look and the two of them disapparated.

“And now, Filius, we must get back to our Houses and do an inspection to see what traps and such have been left.” That was Snape.

Sprout nodded agreement, while McGonagall added in her tartest tones, “and to check our offices and classrooms for the like. This is indeed a troublesome time.”

With that the four adults left the room looking concerned.

“Well, we have scored something out of this, at least,” said Justin. “A bigger room, and a higher level of protection from her.”

“Yes, and did you see what the rune on the inside of the old room does?” replied Malfoy. We shook our heads. “If Edgecombe goes in there again, she’ll be trapped and won’t be able to get out. Not sure who else it would trap, but she’s not taking Runes so she wouldn’t even begin to understand what had happened, let alone how to deal with it.”

We grinned at each other, then Neville settled to his desk to finish off the paper for Sprout, while I went back to Snape’s book. Malfoy and Justin pulled out the chess set again and so we spent a quiet hour before dinner. Away from the dramas that waited us outside the door to our Chamber; just four ordinary guys away at boarding school together.

At dinner I said to the others, “I still need to talk to Fred and George. How am I going to get their attention under their gaze?” My pronouns were somewhat mixed there, but they understood what I meant.

Malfoy slid me a square slip of paper. “Write a brief note on that, and I’ll get it to them.”

I quickly wrote, “Need to talk. Meet me at #2 from the top.” Then I slid it back to him.

He raised an eyebrow. “Well, that’s certainly brief and cryptic enough.” He quickly folded it into an origami crane, brushed his hand over the wings, then set it to fly. “Don’t watch it, otherwise you’ll attract attention to it.” It flitted quickly out of view anyway.

The Headmaster rose from his seat at the Head Table and limped over to the lectern. “Oh dear, did we cause that limp?” whispered Neville in a voice that oozed compassion.

We snorted quietly as the general body of students noticed him. A low buzz of conversation rose as they began to realise that he was limping. He stepped forward to the lectern but stopped short about three feet from it. He attempted to walk forward again, but nothing happened. He looked around the Hall a little desperately but appeared to come to no conclusions.

“Professor McGonagall, would you kindly come over and test this barrier?”

She rose to her feet and walked over to him and then walked straight to the lectern. “I’m not sure what the problem is, Headmaster, but I do not detect this barrier to which you refer. Shall I take over the announcements?”

“Thank you, yes, that would be a good idea.”

“Sonorous. Your attention please for a few brief moments. House Quidditch trials have been scheduled for this week. Please see your house noticeboard for details. A further Educational Decree has been posted, the fourth I believe in as many days. Please make sure you have read and understood the contents prior to the start of class tomorrow. Mr. Filch has asked me to remind you all that the use of magic in the corridors when moving between classes is forbidden and that his collection of mediaeval devices is need of cleaning.

“Now, as tomorrow sees the resumption of classes for the week, curfew for all years is 9 o’clock. You have ninety minutes between now and then. I wish you all a good night. Finite.”

There was a general rumble as all the students climbed to their feet to make our way out of the hall. I decided on a little experiment and got up facing the front of the Hall and stepped forward a little. Hmm, that worked. Dumbledore suddenly stumbled back a couple of steps. Well, mustn’t be too obvious, I thought, and I turned and walked towards the doors at the back.

As we neared the doors, Neville nudged me and jerked his head. I turned in time to see Dumbledore wave his hands to show where he was stopped and then he went bug-eyed as he stepped forwards with ease. I wished I could stay to see the rest of the show, but it wouldn’t be safe, and I turned again and exited.

I dodged into the boys’ loo and pulled on my Invisibility Cloak, then made my way up the various staircases and corridors to the fifth floor and found Fred and George skulking beside the fake tapestry covering the secret passage that led to the fireplace in the Trophy Room. I looked around and spotted a couple of portraits peering with interest at the twins, so I walked between them and grabbed an elbow each and led them down to an area with no portraits. Once there I whispered, “where’s somewhere we can talk with no listening spells or recording devices?”

“Seventh Floor. Come with us,” replied George equally quietly.

They led me up to the Seventh Floor to a blank wall opposite a tapestry of a wizard teaching trolls to dance. Fred then walked up and down muttering to himself. A door suddenly appeared in the wall, through which we quickly went.

A small cosy room presented itself to my sight. There were three chairs drawn up in front of a fireplace. We took our seats and then I began explaining Winky’s predicament.

“Okay,” said Fred, “but what’s it to do with us. We can’t handle a dipso house elf at present.”

“No, but your mother could, if it was presented in the right way.”

“Well, that’s true.”

“But it couldn’t be us.”

“It would have to be either Charlie.”

“Or Dad.”

“Alright, Harrykins”

“We’ll sound Dad out.”

“And get back to you.”

“Neat messaging by the way.”

“Where did you learn that?”

“Malfoy did the folding and sending for me. Now, she’s on patrol duty again tonight. We’d better get going, only twenty minutes left until curfew.”

They looked alarmed.

“Did you see what happened to Lee?”

“She made him write”

“The Ministry is always right”

“Hundreds of times.”

I made a flapping movement with my hands and we left the room. As we walked away the door vanished and the wall became blank once more.

We parted on the fifth floor and I made it back to Ravenclaw Tower with ten minutes to spare. I reported briefly to the others on the conversation, then, wishing them good night, retreated behind my curtains to try the meditation technique from the book.

In my mind I went out onto the Quidditch pitch and rose above it on my broom. I then laid my body full length along it and began going through the practice evolutions that Oliver Wood had taught me. I started off at full speed, then gradually dropped the speed until I was barely going fast enough to keep the head of the broom up.

Without realising it I fell asleep while mind-flying.


	16. Lachrymento felis

Monday 8 September

When I woke up, I was still flying and took me a bit realise that it had been only my imagination. Then I realised that I had actually slept without a potion and without dreams or nightmares. I checked the time: six-fifteen. I almost cheered but remembered in time that Neville and Draco would still be asleep. I looked out of my curtains and noticed that Justin had already left for his run.

I had just decided to get up and have a shower before re-reading parts of Snape’s mind-clearing book, when Justin came crashing back into the room.

“Do you know what that poor excuse for a human female has done now?” he yelled.

There were startled snorts from Malfoy’s and Neville’s beds as they woke.

“That new Educational Decree!” I could hear the venom in his voice as he spat the words. “It says, ‘no student may go outside before sunrise or after dusk’. What the fuck is wrong with that stupid shit-for-brains toad?”

“Finch-Fletchley,” snapped Malfoy. “Calm yourself and let’s deal with this rationally. It’s Potter who’s supposed to lose his temper, not you.”

“She’s going to have to learn to stop this knee-jerk reaction to my every action,” I said. “So far, each Decree has been in response to something I’ve been involved with. No one-on-one fraternisation with a member of another house: me going for a walk with Hermione; no talking about a staff-member with another member of staff: our discussion in Potions following Seamus’ detention, followed by her overhearing Flitwick’s warning to us; and now no going outside during the hours of darkness: me joining you for a run one morning.

“The consequences of each of her actions are much further reaching than she has thought about. Her focus has been completely on me, trying to prevent me from declaring the truth about the return of Tom Riddle. Which is laughable, given that I have very little desire to dwell on the memories of what happened that night.

“So, now on top of siblings not being able to talk to each other, nor the betrothed couples amongst the senior years; and us no longer able to integrate our learning in the different domains, she has just made Astronomy class and Quidditch practice impractical.”

“So, what are we going to do?” asked Neville.

“Do? We’re going to tell her …” started Justin.

“Absolutely nothing,” said Malfoy and me simultaneously.

“However,” Malfoy continued, “we will make a nuisance of ourselves.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, on Wednesday evening we’ll gather as a large group at the bottom of the stairs to the Astronomy Tower and silently stare at our blank star charts.”

“Each evening this week, the House that’s booked the Quidditch pitch will sit beside the open main doors in our gear with our brooms and look forlornly down the grounds,” I added.

“The students could also sit at different tables at each meal to enable friends, siblings and betrothed couples to talk to each other,” said Neville.

As we made each suggestion, I could see Justin was calming down.

“And,” I said, “I may just be able to arrange an outdoor run for you without you going outside. I need to experiment with some magic and then I’ll report back.” I could see a flurry of questions forming and cut them off. “I’m not saying any more until I’m sure.”

“Now,” said Malfoy, “because you so rudely interrupted my final half-hour of sleep, you get the last shower.” And he seized a towel and regally headed into the bathroom.

I grinned and then followed him in to use the other shower.

Because breakfast was an informal affair, we decided to head down early. Roger was already at the table when we got there, and I went up to him and explained our idea for dealing with the after-dusk rule.

“Well, it doesn’t help immediately, but it should work. I’ll talk to the other captains, so that we present a united front.”

The Weasley twins had obviously thought the same as us and were already seated at the Slytherin table waiting for Ron to make his appearance. This seemed to start a trend and by the time the staff arrived to take their places at the head table, each House table was populated by a mixture of all four house logos—except for the First Years, who weren’t sure what was going on.

As each member of staff came in, they blinked in surprise at the sight then shrugged and took their places. Flitwick had a grin on his face, while McGonagall and Snape had supressed their smiles—Snape more successfully than McGonagall.

Dumbledore hadn’t arrived, which was strange because he usually was one of the first to arrive for breakfast. I looked around me and then said quietly, “whoops, I think we sat a little too close to the front for the Headmaster’s breakfast.”

“Should we swap?” asked Neville.

“No, that would make it obvious,” replied Justin. “I mean if he’s able to walk in immediately after we do that, there would be a link. He’ll just have to wait until we’ve gone to Herbology.”

“Now we’re for it,” said Malfoy urgently. And I caught a glimpse of a pink bow bobbing in through the staff door. “Keep the conversation going and don’t notice her.”

We got deep into a conversation comparing the properties of the different parts of aconite and how they could be used.

Suddenly there was screech from the front of the Hall. The room went completely silent as every eye turned to see what had happened. Umbridge was standing on her chair at the Staff Table looking incandescent and shaking with fury.

“What is the meaning of this? Complete bedlam instead of nice orderly students. You should not be spread out across the tables. You should each be sitting at your own table. I know who the instigator of this is, and they shall be punished. Detention, Mr. Potter.”

The roar of disapproval that greeted these words was so loud that all the Hogwarts ghosts promptly appeared to see what the issue was and the portraits on the walls became crowded with visitors from all over the castle.

I saw with shock that several teachers, including Snape, were on their feet and yelling at her as well.

“Damn,” said Malfoy. “That’s torn it. I’m going to have to reveal my link with Hogwarts.” And rising to his feet he walked down the Hall and stood in the centre of the open space. I saw him mouth “sonorous maximus”. Then he openly put his wand away.

“Silence!” rang through the Great Hall. People started looking around, wondering where the voice had come from, but Malfoy gave them no time to work it out.

“Lady Hogwarts, you have heard the declared doom of punishment upon Heir Potter for inciting the discord of students sharing their breakfast tables. And you have heard the reaction of students and staff to this doom. Kindly declare your judgement as to whether this imposition of punishment be fair or no.”

A single bell rang, and I found myself compelled to rise until I was standing about three feet above the normal floor level. At the same time Umbridge’s height was reduced until her eyes were level with the top of the table.

The bell sounded again, and a rattle was heard as twenty gems flew upwards in the Ravenclaw points hourglass.

“Thank you, Lady Hogwarts for your judgement.” He turned to Professor McGonagall. “Deputy Headmistress, in the absence of the Headmaster, I request your pronouncement.” And he bowed to her.

She bowed back, “I Minerva McGonagall in my capacity as Deputy Headmistress of the Noble School of Hogwarts do declare that Lady Hogwarts has ruled that the doom of punishment was unfair and unwarranted. I do therefore rescind the punishment of detention for M__” here she stumbled for a moment, “for Heir Potter as imposed by Dolores Umbridge. So mote it be.”

The rest of the staff replied, “so mote it be.”

Malfoy bowed to them, then cancelled the sonorous charm and returned to us. “Let’s get out of here before I’m cross-questioned by far too many people.”

We gathered our belongings and headed out of the Great Hall amid a rumbling chorus of low voices. Fortunately, some others in our year left at the same time, as Dumbledore made his appearance down the end of the hall with a peevish look on his face.

We walked down to the glasshouses with Seamus and Dean. Crabbe and Bulstrode weren’t far behind us. Although we were all silent, it felt like a companionable silence—like none of us needed to talk, needed to fill the silence. So different from walking anywhere with Hermione, Ron or Parkinson.

Professor Sprout had us working in Glasshouse Two this morning. Our task was to prepare a mulch that could be used to protect magical trees and bushes from spell-induced drought. The labour part of the task was familiar enough to me from Petunia’s garden, it was the technique of infusing it with magical properties that was interesting. As we’d learnt last week, we couldn’t attach actual magic to the plants—not if they were to be used in potions. Neville said that even if the plant wasn’t used in potions, we couldn’t use magic for fear of affecting the bowtruckles or any future wand wood uses. So, the infusion had to be of a substance that carried magical properties innately. Wormwood was one, but it could only be used with particular plants as it would kill most at concentrations above one in a thousand.

Wand water was another, but it was too dilute and often carried impurities from the wood of the wand, or worse the core.

Aqua vitae was mentioned, and Seamus’ eyes lit up, whereupon Professor Sprout explained that was why it was a bad idea. Magical plants and drinking alcohol was a bad combination.

“Don’t drink and dig,” I muttered to Justin’s amusement.

Finally, we were taught a new spell, _lachrymento felis_, which produced about five large drops of thick moisture in the air in front of the wand. Each drop was enough to dampen about 200 grams of mulch.

I raised my hand.

“Yes, Mr. Potter?”

“I’m wondering why this spell is called ‘tears of the cat’. I don’t recall cat’s tears being that thick.”

“I don’t know the answer to that and I’m not allowed to advise you on how to find out the origin of this charm.” There was a slight emphasis on the last word. “But I can assure you that I learnt it myself while attending class on the third floor.”

There were general grins at that answer, and we moved on to adding the drops to our mulch.

About ten minutes before the end of class, we were sent to wash up. Cleaning charms were fine for our robes but weren’t precise enough for our fingernails.

“Alright, there is one other standard substance that we can use. However, it can’t be conjured by a spell, but has to be collected. That substance is the milk of puff-ball fungi. For Thursday, I want you to write an explanation of how to collect it, how it works to protect and why we don’t include it in your Fifth-Year practical work. Eighteen inches, please.

“Also, please place your aconite essays in the “In” tray on the bench beside the door. If you need an extension, it’s granted, but only until one o’clock today. After then you will score null, regardless of how brilliant your essay is.”

The bell sounded then, and we left. Neville left our paper in the tray as well as his essay as he went out the door.

We made our way quickly through the grounds and then went up to the gym. Stagnant was there waiting for us and I decided to greet him like he was a dōjō master and I was a new student.

His eyes sparkled as he instantly recognised what I had done. “Well, Harry Potter, I expect you to have meant what you communicated there—a willingness to try, a determination to not fail, and the humility to obey. We shall see how it plays out.”

We were then put to an active warm up with shuttle runs and burpees mixed in with bear crawls. Then we were into it.

Malfoy and I were set to doing deadlifts with a dumbbell alternated with push-ups. At the same time Neville and Justin were doing squats in the rack and alternating with chin-ups.

We then moved to doing a bench press with a dumbbell in each hand and then changing to a one-arm row. After that it was a little circuit of flies, planks and something Stagnant called bat-wings, where we had to lie face-down on a bench, then pull a couple light dumbbells up so that our thumbs were in our armpits and our elbows sticking up in the air behind us and hold the position for ten seconds.

We finished off by sitting with our backs straight and holding a dumbbell up in the air and then lowering it behind our heads and then pushing it back up.

I’d lost track of what Neville and Justin were doing somewhere about the time of doing the rows, but they finished at about the same time we did.

“Not bad, not bad for a first proper workout. You’ll be doing different workouts on Wednesday and Friday. When you come back to this one on Monday, you’ll do three sets of each exercise instead of the two you’ve just done.

“Now, you need to do a cool down. Get on the treadmills and walk for five minutes at five klicks.”

Once we’d done that, we were sent to foam roll and then he said, “go and drink 500 ml of water each, then sit in the sauna for five minutes—no more than that, otherwise you’ll dehydrate and be useless the rest of the day—before you take your showers. See you on Wednesday.”

I went to what I judged to be the south-west corner and made the farewell bows before heading to the changing room.

While we were sitting in the sauna, we discussed which exercises we had found most challenging. Neville said it was something called an overhead press. He had struggled with his second set, so what had been a fairly light weight was going to be dropped for next week. Malfoy said it was the planks as he felt like he wanted to sag in the middle all the time. Justin agreed with Neville on the overhead press and I went with the bat-wings.

It seemed like no time at all before the five minutes were up and we went out to the showers. When we got there, a couple of Seventh-Year students were getting ready to do their workouts. I couldn’t help but look at their bodies as they peeled off their shirts.

One of them noticed and laughed, “it’s alright boys, we don’t mind you looking your fill at us. Something to aspire to, eh?” and then he dropped his trousers and I realised he wasn’t wearing underwear. “Don’t like wearing grots, eh? They pull up around my balls and rub them the wrong way.”

“Well, if you shaved down there like I do …” said the other guy gesturing to his privates. He had indeed shaved down there. All he’d left of his hair was a narrow strip above his cock.

“Nah, Frankie likes me hairy, so I’m staying that way.” Then he climbed into a one-piece wrestling suit, put on some shoes and was gone through the door into the gym.

His mate, dressed more like we did in shorts and an athletic singlet, followed him a few seconds later.

I looked across at the others to see a tent in Justin’s towel and the beginnings of one in Neville’s. I shook my head at them. “Shower time.”

We chose our showers, then let the warm water cascade down over us. I closed my eyes for a few moments and relaxed in the spray. When I opened them, I could see Justin had turned his back to us and was making wanking movements. A couple of minutes later he shuddered, and his knees seemed to give way for a bit as he reached out with his left hand and held onto a handle attached to the wall.

I turned the other way and caught a look of amusement in Neville’s eyes and astonishment in Draco’s.

My own cock was pointing at the ceiling, and I contemplated following Justin’s example, but decided I wasn’t ready to wank in front of other people. So, I turned the water to cold. That didn’t help, if anything I was harder. The shower stall, as if divining my intention, then produced two more nozzles and blasted jets of water against the area just under the head of my cock. One was ice cold and the other was warm, and they alternated rapidly in a pulsing manner until I too had to grab at a handle to steady myself as my cock exploded. The water jets changed to become gentle streams as I got my breath back and then died away to a trickle down the walls of the stall.

I don’t know if the other guys noticed what had happened, as none of us met each other’s eye while we dried off and got dressed.

Lunch was protein smoothies for all four of us, followed by a single square of exquisite chocolate—hazelnut and plum. Then it was up to the Charms classroom ready for our Spell Creation class.


	17. The Balls of Affinity

Professor Flitwick met us in the corridor outside with his finger on his lips and led us to a disused classroom around the corner.

“For obvious reasons I don’t want to use my classroom for this session, at least not until we can be sure that it’s clear of all listening devices. News of your affinity must not get out at present. Now, in today’s session we’re going to experiment and explore what you can do together. I’ve already heard from Professor Sprout of the fine work you did together last week in creating a biome, and also from Professor Snape on your sterling Potions’ work on Friday morning. Of course, I have also seen how the four of your worked together yesterday. Now, let’s see what you can do when you work to deliberately combine your magic.”

He quickly conjured a lot of balls of various colours in a net.

“Now, first up, individually. Mr. Malfoy, please use your magic to pull out all the orange balls and put them in this container.”

Malfoy thought for a moment, then twitched his wand in the shape of a W and murmured _depulso aurantiaco_. There was a pause, then a mass of orange rose out of the net and he guided it over to where the balls then fell in a steady stream into the container.

“Very good. Now, Mr. Potter, the blue balls.”

I decided to try wandless and I carefully visualised the blue rising and then moving. Stretching my hand out I said “_wingardium caeruleus_.” Almost immediately the blue balls rose, then crashed onto the floor around us, bouncing in all directions. When I looked in the container, three had got there.

“Whoops, sorry about that.”

“The problem there, Harry,” said Neville, “was that you visualised them as a single mass for getting them out of the net, but then they separated due to gravity and that’s when you lost control.”

“So, your visualisation, Malfoy?” I asked.

“I thought of all the individual balls rising to form a mass and then moving in a stream,” he replied.

I nodded, “that makes sense.” And I tried again, but this time I started with a summoning charm to gather them from where they’d rolled and then streamed them up in an arc into the container.

“Very well. Now, Mr. Longbottom, the green balls, if you please.”

Neville pulled out his wand, closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. When he exhaled, the net flew into the air, shook itself and the green balls fell out and landed in a heap on the floor. He breathed in again, and the balls rushed over to their container, rolled up the sides and landed in it.

We were all shaking our heads and wondering how on earth he’d thought of, let alone performed, such an idea.

“Well, Mr. Longbottom. I’ve seen all sorts of magic, but even I can’t be sure of what you did just then.”

“Oh, I just got the green balls to shrink enough to fall through the holes in the net, then as they fell they went back to their proper size, but were forbidden to bounce. Then when I sucked in my breath again, I used an attraction charm from inside the container.”

I gave a shout of laughter, “how did you even think of that? Justin, looks like there’s a challenge on.”

Flitwick smiled and said, “well, maybe. Mr. Finch-Fletchley, the yellow balls.”

Justin paused a moment, then murmured _sphaero flavo abscondo_. The yellow balls simply faded from view within the net. When we looked in the container, they had arrived there silently.

We just looked at him astonished. He blinked back and said, “well, this is a Spell Creation class, isn’t it?”

Professor Flitwick was rubbing his hands gleefully. “It is, it is, indeed. Now, we’ll put all the balls back in the net, …” And with a few flicks of his wand it was done. “Then, you’ll swap techniques, round one in the circle. Mr. Malfoy, please use Mr. Potter’s spell on the blue balls.”

Malfoy did as requested and, while he didn’t drop as many as I did, he still lost control of some. Looked like _Wingardium_ didn’t work with multiple simultaneous objects. While he was scooping up the fallen balls, I suddenly realised what I was about to try to do.

“Neville,” I bleated. “How am I going to replicate what you did?”

“Keep your focus. You’ll be fine. And remember, it is possible, ’cos you’ve just seen it done.”

I closed my eyes like Neville had, focused in on the colour green and the shape of the balls, took a deep breath and blew it out. I heard the sound of falling objects, so concentrated on the container and sucked in.

There were a couple of grunts of pain, so I opened my eyes to see Neville and Justin standing in the container being bombarded with green balls that were trying to get in it with them.

“Oh,” was all I could weakly say. “Ah, sorry?”

Malfoy was standing beside me trying not to laugh while Flitwick was attempting to stop the balls from moving.

“Finite,” I called, and the balls not only stopped bombarding the guys, they vanished altogether along with the rest and the containers.

Flitwick turned and stared at me like he was stunned or something.

“What’s the matter, sir?”

“No there’s nothing the matter, Mr. Potter. You’ve just cancelled my creation spells. The last time someone succeeded in doing that was when I was not much older than yourself. Because of my mixed ancestry, I am quite powerful, and it takes a lot to cancel one of my spells. There are very few wixen who can.”

“Also, Harry, you took my spell and somewhat over-powered it,” said Neville. “That’s how Justin and I ended up over here.”

“But, you’re not a green ball.”

“No,” said Justin. “But I could see what you were weaving, and you were so focused on the colour of the balls, that you threw anything that was green into the container. I’m wearing green underwear, which you would have seen when we got dressed after the gym.”

“And you see me as green because of my abilities with plants.”

“But Malfoy didn’t move, and Slytherin’s colour is green.”

“Yes, but you know I’m not in Slytherin this year, and it’s a very different shade of green to the balls or aconite leaves, which is the most recent green you would associate Neville with.”

“So, how do I stop over-powering my spells? And why do some just act like flobberworms?”

“Whenever you think something is hard,” said Malfoy, “you either throw all your power into it, or you let your intention falter.”

“Actually Harry, nothing is hard. You just haven’t worked out how to achieve it.”

“And things I think are hard are easy to you, like out-flying a dragon.”

“So, you guys are saying that challenges are about how to think about something rather than about prowess?”

Justin nodded, “yup. It’s back to intent again.”

While we’d been talking, Professor Flitwick had reconjured the balls and the other things. “Now Mr. Longbottom, please see what you can do with Mr. Finch-Fletchley’s new spell.”

Neville took a deep breath, then quietly said “sphaero flavo abscondo.” Again, the yellow balls simply faded from view, but when we looked in the containers there were red balls distributed across all of them.

“Oh,” said Neville. “I’m not sure what I did there.” He paused. “However, it has to be something to do with intent or my visualisation. I did intend the balls to go to their nearest container, but I don’t know why they changed colour.”

“Neville,” I asked, “have you ever come across Harlequin?”

“The name’s vaguely familiar. Why?”

“Harlequin is the trickster character in the old comedies. He’s often dressed in a patchwork of red and yellow, and when he does something tricky on stage, it usually turns out differently.” I turned to Flitwick, “Professor, can you please put those balls back in the net without doing anything about their colour?”

Flitwick waved his wand with a double flick in the middle and the balls left the containers and went back to the net.

“Now, what do you see? Lots of red? Or are there yellow balls there again?”

“They’re back to yellow.”

“Right, now try the spell again, but just to one container.”

He paused to gather himself, then incanted. This time the yellow balls arrived without changing colour into the one container.

“I don’t understand.”

I raised a hand. “Let’s try something different. Justin, try your new spell with a different colour ball, but distribute them across the containers like Neville did the first time.”

Justin had a go with the green balls. They were all sky blue when we looked in the containers.

“There’s something dancing around in the back of mind to explain this, but I can’t quite grasp it. Professor, can you help?”

Flitwick’s eyes were dancing and shining with delight. “Oh, teaching you this class is going to be wonderful. Actually, I’m not going to tell you today. Instead, researching this is your assigned work ready for Thursday’s session.”

Justin suddenly asked, “Sir, why do we use Latin words for spells? What would happen if we used French instead?”

Flitwick grinned, pointed his wand at a desk and said, “_flotte dans l'air_.” And it rose as if he’d used wingardium.

“So why don’t we use English?”

“Because it would be too easy to do magic by mistake in the middle of ordinary conversation. If you have to use special words, then your intent becomes focused.”

“So, that’s why the French sometimes use English words when they do their magic,” said Malfoy in a tone of voice that said he was discovering something. “I’d just thought they were being kind to me when I was kid.”

Justin then asked, “so, if we sharpened our intent carefully, we could use English?”

Flitwick gave a non-committal grunt and Justin’s eyes lit up to take the challenge. He turned to face the re-conjured net of balls, paused for a moment to focus, then said, “red balls, fly up and over there.”

Those that were on the top layer did just that, but the others that were lower down in the net stayed where they were. I heard panting and turned and looked at Justin. He was grinning ruefully, “that’s a lot harder than I had bargained on and it’s taken a lot out of me.”

I rummaged in my bag and pulled out some of Honeyduke’s 70% and passed it over. “Here, Professor Lupin’s universal panacea for hits on magic.”

Neville and Flitwick laughed, for they knew what Remus was like about chocolate.

“Alright then, we’ve got time for one more piece of spell work. I want the four of you to stand around the net and mesh your magic to co-operate in emptying the net of all the balls and putting them all in separate containers sorted by colour.”

Justin went and stood to the North of the net then spread out his arms in a half-circle shape. “I’m going by instinct here,” he said. “Let your instincts guide you too.”

I had already begun moving to the southern position, while Malfoy had gone East and Neville to the West. Neville crouched down on one knee, Malfoy bowed his head as if in deep thought and I mirrored Justin’s position, but not as wide.

We then each let six tendrils of our magic reach out in a lattice so that two joined to each of the others. All of those that went to Neville touched his head, those to Draco touched his chest, while those to Justin and me ranged along our arms, three on each in a different order.

There were three places where a tendril from each of us met and formed a node. Instinctively I knew that we needed to pull the three nodes together in the centre under the net, so I focused on making that happen. I gradually moved my arms into a smaller circle and felt the lines contracting and expanding as they moved in response. The nodes began to move in an undulating manner, and I could feel them wanting to spin, but I resisted this because it would overpower what we were trying to do. Suddenly they moved together and there was a feeling of a pop like a bubble bursting and I had a feeling of joy for a moment.

Distantly I could hear Flitwick’s voice squeaking, but I couldn’t concentrate enough to make out what he was saying. We needed to gradually let go of each other’s magic first. I let the three tendrils on my left arm slip away before letting go of those on my right. At the same time, I reeled in my own magic as the others let go of it.

Once I felt all six return to me, I was able to look to see what we’d achieved. Well, the net was empty and lying on the floor. Looking into the two containers closest to me, I could see that one was filled with green balls and the other with yellow.

“So, we did it?” Neville tentatively asked.

“Yes, yes. And very well too,” replied Flitwick. “Not only did you achieve the task, you went a step further and placed the balls into six of the bins in the order of the rainbow colours. Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and purple, and those bins are arranged in an arc from East to West around behind Mr. Potter. The white balls are in a bin immediately behind Mr. Finch-Fletchley and the black balls are in the eighth container over beside the door.”

“But, how did we do it?” I asked. “I mean, all we did was draw the nodes in together to make them join. How did that achieve that result? I mean, that’s none of intent, word or action for this result.”

Justin said, “no, I think we each did something different, but together it happened. My task was to keep the three of you grounded while you worked.”

“I was concentrating on releasing the balls, but I had to wait for the right moment. I could feel it building up, then suddenly it was there,” said Neville.

“And I was focusing on the sorting aspect,” added Malfoy. “But I’m not sure how the rainbow thing happened.”

“That might have been me,” said Justin. “I had some spare focus, so I was thinking about where the containers were.”

Neville turned and said, “Professor, why were our points of contact and positions so different?”

“The answers to those questions are a big part of what we’ll be exploring together this year. Right now, I don’t have answers. You were all operating from instinct on multiple levels. You had to work out how to combine your magic, how to divide the task up, and how to accomplish it. The fact that you did all that and still have time to discuss afterwards when we had only fifteen minutes left is a testament to the reality of the magical affinity that you gentlemen have.

“Now, in preparation for our next meeting on Thursday I want you to research Mr. Potter’s Harlequin idea. While the books on the _Commedia dell’ Arte_ in the magical world will be helpful for background, they won’t hold the answers you’re looking for—you’ll need to read in a couple of other domains. And that’s all the hint I’m giving.”

And with that, we were dismissed to head to our Runes class.


	18. The Origins of Runes

We spent some time at the start of the lesson reviewing the Devanagari characters, then Professor Babbling started talking about how to combine them.

“The most powerful is the one most often seen in muggle situations, particularly on souvenirs, which is the Om.” And she drew it on the board: ॐ

“Because of this ubiquity, we can use it along with various combinations in places that muggles might see without them becoming suspicious. This is particularly so in areas where there are large groups of folk from the Subcontinent. While this ‘in plain sight of muggles’ also works with Thai characters, there is no single character that holds the same fame or mystique.

“Now, there are two ways of combining Devanagari characters for our purposes. The first is to write the sequence with an overbar, as if it is a word in Sanskrit or Hindi. The second is to scatter the characters across the shape or frame that is being operated on. The Brahmic characters are the only script family that can be used in this double way. All the alphabets and scripts we’ve covered over the past two years have to be scattered in a runic array form. The Asian scripts we will briefly cover later in the year, and in more detail for your NEWTs, can only be used in the form of words. This includes the most complex, such as Classical Chinese and Kanji, where whole words can be represented by a single character.”

I raised my hand.

“Yes, Mr. Potter?”

“I can see two possibilities, so I wanted to check. If the Devanagari scripts can be used in both ways, then either they are ancestral to both those from the west and to the east of the Subcontinent, or they are the youngest system and are where the two meet.”

I could see on most people’s faces that they hadn’t thought of this. Hermione and Justin, though, were nodding at me with pleased expressions on their faces.

“Well, Mr. Potter, you have anticipated me by about three weeks,” Professor Babbling said, with a smile. “The problem is that most of you don’t have enough background at present to understand why the answer is both and neither.”

“That’s okay, Professor, I can wait for the explanation.”

“I’ll attempt a brief one now, and then a fuller one in a few weeks. There are two fundamental principles at play here. The first is the origins of the use of Runes; and the second is the migrations of magic users.

“We touched on the origins briefly in both Third and Fourth Years, and you three will cover this in your back reading over the next couple of weeks. However, the use of Runes appears to have spontaneously arisen at multiple sites across the world and it is impossible now to determine which site was the first. Those sites are: Hogsmeade, Wiltshire, Stavanger, Arles, Rome, Skopje, Kurta, Petra, Goa, Kathmandu, Gwalior, Beijing, Fujiyama, Uluru, Viti Levu, Tierra del Fuego, the Galapagos, Yucatán, Winnipeg, the Azores and Akureyri.”

“So, these are all locations of some of the major nexuses,” said Hermione. “But what about the others?”

“For those evidence is either lost or is hidden from researchers as too precious to let out of the cabals. Or in the case of places like Eketahuna in New Zealand or South Georgia, there were no people at the time.”

“Presumably there’s also the problem of peoples without a written tradition,” threw in Ernie.

“Interestingly, no. Their Shamans all had a form of inscribed magic. Maybe not things we would recognise as runes, but inscriptions nonetheless.”

“Is that why you didn’t mention any African sites?” asked Adeyemi Falola. “Surely there are sites in Egypt at least, even if the Sub-Saharan sites are lost.”

“Yes, there are Egyptian sites as well as at least one each in Libya and Morocco. However, the known ones are all secondary sites rather than primary. And the researchers have been unable to identify the primary sites. They may have been consumed by the Sahara, for there are at least two major nexus within the boundaries of the Desert. The other major nexus are in countries that don’t have a magical treaty with those the researchers come from and sneaking magic users into those countries is treated as an act of war.

“In the last such attempt that I know of, an American by the name of Bertie Amarosa entered Uganda over the border with Kenya. He was detected within five minutes by the _Askari_ and arrested by the _Wizara_ [the Ministry], taken before the _Mahakama_ [Court] where he was tried and found to be a dark lord who was trying to steal their most secret and sacred forms of _Uchawi_ [magic] so that their enemies over the border in the Sudan could swoop in and take their water and land. Mr. Amarosa did not survive the Night of Trial by Cockroach. He was stung to death by the scorpions that came to feed upon the cockroaches that he had been covered by. To the local people this proved they were right, as in their mythos only the Dark faction of magic users are stung by scorpions, and the darker they are the more they will be stung.

“However, this has taken us a long way from our original subject of the origins of runic usage. The second factor I mentioned was migration. This has taken place in two ways, the first is the groups of people being forced to move either because of natural disasters or because another people group has pushed them out. In these migrations, the magic users tended to preserve their magic in secret and it mostly was not combined or overlaid on what was already there at the new places they arrived at. A classic example is that related in the book of _Genesis_ in the Jewish _Torah_. When the man later to be known as Abraham moved into Palestine, he and his followers brought their magic with them, but were very careful not to mix it with that of the local Canaanite tribes. They considered it would be contaminated by doing so. This is the origin of the Jewish belief in separation from the world around them.

“The second type of migration is that of colonisation. The countries of Western Europe, including our own Great Britain, were becoming overpopulated and the great explorers of the sixteenth through eighteenth centuries were sent to find new lands. Magic users who were part of these migrations mostly dominated the local wixen and either forced them underground or converted them to the ways of the colonisers. Sometimes bits of the local ways got integrated into the new magic. An example of this latter is from Mexico where the cultus of Tonantzin was a focus of magic. Her image was turned into a version of the Virgin Mary by the invading Catholic Europeans. The locals continued to do their magic with the help of the same female deity, they simply called her something else.

“Now, turning to India. As you probably know, Vasco da Gama found a sea route from Portugal to India by doubling the Cape of Good Hope, and as a result the Portuguese arrived in Goa. They too brought Catholicism, but they also brought European ways of doing magic and forced the locals underground. It was then that the European way of using runic characters on a field arrived in India. But because India is so vast and has such a mix of people, the Eastern way of using words was moving around at the same time. Eventually they intersected and the result is that both runic methods are used.”

Ernie raised his hand and asked, “so why didn’t the colonisers of Hong Kong, Singapore and Shanghai have the same influence?”

“They were never colonised in the same way and so the local cultures remained the dominant ones. Also, the colonising cultures were Protestant rather than Catholic. Remember that at the time the only countries that had enough internal organisation were Portugal, Spain, France, the Netherlands and Great Britain. Italy and Germany were both fragmented in multiple kingdoms, principalities and dukedoms and Scandinavia was still settling its internal borders. It wasn’t until the nineteenth century that those countries sent out their colonisers.

“The British colonies in the Far East, from Rangoon through to Shanghai and the other so-called Treaty Ports, were about trade rather than a place to put large numbers of people. Also, the leaders were mostly non-magical.”

“Do we know what technique the original magic users in Goa used before the Portuguese arrived?” asked Malfoy.

“Up to last week, I would have said ‘no’ to that question, but it so happens that some research was published in the September issue of _The Journal of Runic Origins_ that indicates that there is a strong likelihood that they used single rune characters and hadn’t progressed to combining them in either fashion.”

“If that’s the brief explanation,” said Grant Stanton with a grin, “what’s the full version like?”

“Ah, maybe I did get a little carried away there,” Babbling replied with a smile. “Especially as this whole matter is a particular research interest of mine.

“Now, for next week’s class please give me eighteen inches on how the ॐ can be used in practical applications. Thursday’s study group will be used to revise the Futhark runes and extend your knowledge of their applications.”

After class the others headed to the library to get started on today’s new assignments, while I made my way up to the seventh floor. The wall where the door had been was blank, so I wondered how Fred had made the door appear. He’d wandered up and down a few times muttering to himself. So, I tried the same. After I passed along a third time, a door shimmered into being, but when I opened it there was just wall behind it. Hmm, I was going to need help with this.

“Dobby,” I called.

He popped beside me and started to bounce. “Is you needing the Come-and-Go Room, Master Harry Potter?”

“Is that what it’s called?”

“Well, that’s what we House Elves call it. Wizards has a different name, but …” and he shrugged. “You has to walk up and down three times, while thinking about what you need the room to be. Only one room at a time.”

So, I did the walking thing again about five metres in each direction, while thinking ‘I need somewhere nice for Justin to run.’ A different door appeared and when I opened it there was an oval running track like those I’d seen in news stories about the Olympic Games. A blue sky soared above the track and I could make out a couple of grandstands at each end of the track.

“Perfect, absolutely perfect.”

I closed the door, dismissed Dobby back to whatever it was he’d been doing and went down to the library.

“I’ve solved the running problem,” I said when I got there. “Wake me up in the morning if I’m not already awake and I’ll show you.”

“What about you two? Will you join us?”

Malfoy’s face took on a look of horror. “Run? Me? I don’t think so, Finch-Fletchley. And anyway, I need the extra half hour of sleep.”

“You’d get used to doing without it, you know.”

“No, that is absolutely not so. I’m a teenage boy, with a healthy set of hormones. I need that sleep just to be able to get through the day.”

Neville just grinned and said, “you guys go for it this week and I’ll see about joining you next week.”

“Right, I’m going to get started on the Harlequin research while it’s still hovering in the back of my mind,” I said. And I went over to Madam Pince’s desk.

“Yes, Mr. Potter?”

“I need to do some research into Harlequin and his place in the magical world. Professor Flitwick hinted that I would need to read beyond the books on the _Commedia_, but I’m not sure where to start.”

Her eyes lit up in a way I had never seen from her before. “Well, I must say it’s a refreshing change to be asked about something that’s not part of the core curriculum and especially about a topic that’s so interesting. Now let me think … ah yes.” And she picked up her quill and wrote four reference numbers on a scrap of parchment. “Try these sections as a starting point. The first is the _Commedia dell’Arte_. There are two books in there that will give you a good overview, one is muggle, _Il segreto della commedia dell’arte,_ and the other is a pseudonymous work by a wizarding author: _Arlecchino e Pugno: disadattati del palcoscenico_. The other three section references have only a single book in them.”

I thanked her and went to go when she added, “it’s nice to see you not dangling from Ms. Granger’s coattails for once.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that, so I just nodded and went across to the shelves in a hurry. I found the two Italian books easily, then went to the other three references in order. I really didn’t expect to end up in Dragonology, or Transfiguration. The third was History of Magic, which was far less of a surprise.

I went back to where the guys were sitting. Neville had the book on mind-clearing this time, while Justin was deep in a pile of Herbology books. I showed Malfoy the books that Madam Pince had pointed me to.

“Dragonology? What’s that got to do with it?”

“I dunno, but it was a precise section reference she gave me, and this is the only book there.”

He sighed and picked up one of the others, “oh, it’s in Italian. I only know enough Italian to read a menu and ask _Dov'è il bagno per favore_.”

I laughed, then said, “you know more than I do then. But I know a nifty translation spell thanks to Hermione so we’ll be fine.”

His eyes filled with a greedy look. “Teach me?”

“Of course. It’s a project for all of us. You need just need the word ‘translation’ in the original language and say the target language in Latin, in our case _Anglicus_.”

“But how do you find out the word in the original language?”

“Use one of the language dictionaries over in section S3RUI8. But as it happens, I know the Italian word for translation is _traduzione_.” I pulled out my wand, tapped the cover of the first book and said “_traduzione Anglicus_” and tapped it again. The words _The Secrets of the Commedia dell’Arte_ swam into view.

Malfoy grabbed the other book and did the same. “Harlequin and Punch: Misfits of the Stage” he read out. “Well Potter, I will confess to being surprised by some of what you know. What gets me is why it’s only coming out now.”

“Out of the shadows and into the light,” I said cryptically and started to skim through my book. It wasn’t what I was after, but it would be useful for the others to understand the background of what I was trying to grasp. I pushed it aside and picked up _Transformative Power: Dragonet to Wyvern_. The lurid front cover showed a scantily clad woman with a bright red wyvern coiling around her, while a chained shirtless man was struggling with his bonds. The back cover was completely covered with a photograph of the author—a weedy bloke with a receding hairline and an undershot jaw who went by the name Chedworth Nettlesome. Feeling distinctly unencouraged by this, I opened it to look at the table of contents. It was a nearly blank page with just the heading and the word “Foreword” below it. I sighed, it was one of the type of books that made you read it in a particular order and it was only once you’d read a section that you can find the next one. I flipped over to a random page near the middle. At first it was blank, then the words “the Foreword starts on page 5” faded into view across the page.

“You know, there are times when I hate magic,” I said aloud.

The others looked up at me inquiringly and I explained what the book was doing. “I mean I get it for a book of mystery fiction, but for a research book?”

“Have you tried _aparecium_ or _revelio_ on it?” asked Neville.

“No, the last time I tried that on a book like this it wouldn’t open for me for a week. Ron had to read it out loud to me from the other side of the room as it revealed itself to him. It wasn’t exactly an efficient way to get my Charms assignment done.”

“Oh, I remember that now. It wasn’t much fun for the rest of us either. Especially when we were trying to study other topics.”

Justin said, “I’ve got an idea, pass it over.” He started reading the Foreword aloud, then said, “so in the first chapter we cover how the rose got its name.” The magic in the book suddenly woke up at that and it was almost as if it had said “huh?”. Justin paid it no attention and went on, “in the second chapter the focus changes to how to contact dead House Elves and get them to do your bidding.” He then went on describing the chapters in ever more outrageous terms, until the book suddenly snapped itself shut, then fell open again to a complete table of contents as if to show what it was really about.

He pushed it back to me with a grin and I had time to note a couple of potentially useful chapters before the warning bell for dinner rang.

We picked up our stuff and checked out the books we needed, then headed back to Ravenclaw.


	19. A Room of Six

As we came back down to the Common Room, a group of six boys came over to us from the noticeboard with huge grins on their faces.

“Guess what?”

“We’ve struck it lucky.”

“We’ve definitely won.”

“Alright lads, what’s happened?” asked Justin.

They all spoke at once, till he held up his hand and said, “one at time, guys.” Then he pointed at one of them. “We’re the room of Second-Year students that have been linked to your room.”

“Yeah, the other rooms are going to be real jealous.”

“Walk down to dinner with us,” commanded Malfoy. “That way we can get to know each other and not lose any time. Now, why would the other rooms be jealous?”

“Well, there’s Mr. Longbottom and you. Should mean we’ll get at least Exceeds on our Herbology and Potions’ assignments.”

“You do realise that we’re not going to write your essays for you, don’t you?” asked Neville as we waited for a staircase to move across.

“Yeah, we know that,” said a brown-haired kid. “But, your tips and answers to our questions are going to help tremendously.”

“Fair enough,” said Justin. “Now, we’d better find out what your names are, otherwise we’ll end up calling you lad one, lad two, and so on.”

“I’m Arnold Samuel,” said the brown-haired one.

“I’m Tyrone Jordan. I’m Lee’s cousin.”

“And I’m Billy Buggins,” came from a kid with dirty blond hair—just the shade Petunia always wanted but could never get right.

“Titch Salisbury,” proclaimed one who was nearly as tall as me.

An Asian boy stated his name to be “Andrew Tenggara.”

“And I’m Piet de Vries.”

“Well met, Messrs. Samuel, Jordan, Salisbury, de Vries, Tenggara and Buggins,” I said, pointing to each as I said their names. “Did I get it right?”

“Yep,” came the reply.

“Good. Now, meet us in the Common Room after dinner and we’ll spend half-an-hour looking over your timetables and syllabus. Then we can do some planning.” That was Malfoy.

“C-cool,” said Titch Salisbury. And they scampered down to their part of the Ravenclaw table, while we took our places above the rest of the Fifth-Year students. We judged that that would allow Dumbledore to get to the Head Table for meals and around the end of the table where Hagrid sat, which was his usual route to the lectern.

Lasagne appeared on the table for our dinner. I wasn’t sure about the amount of carbs, but Justin reckoned it was okay, ’cause we needed to eat about 50% carb, 30% protein and 20% fat. So, lasagne was a pretty good approximation to it. It tasted good anyway. I still couldn’t manage to eat a lot without feeling stuffed, but I got through at least half a portion. Then I had an apple to follow.

Dumbledore’s announcements were minimal, and we got away smartly to meet up with the boys in the Common Room.

“Alright,” said Malfoy when the ten of us had commandeered a corner of the room. “Now, let’s find out what your strong subjects are. No-one is to answer for himself, as you’ll either boast or put yourself down.” He went through their subjects and found that across the group one or two of them strong in most subjects. The main gap was, unfortunately, in Defence. None of them were much good at flying either, but that didn’t really matter. Hermione and Neville were both pants at flying, but still managed to be good at most other things.

I was about to ask what happened last year, when I realised it had been fake-Moody, so probably didn’t cover much of the First-Year standard syllabus. And they sure weren’t going to learn anything useful this year either. Remus really had been the only decent Defence teacher we’d had.

“Alright, between the four of us we’ll be to help you learn in all your subjects, but I repeat what we said before: we’re not going to do your assignments for you.”

“Th-th-that’s okay,” said Titch, “even if y-you j-j-just give us p-pointers as to wh-where to l-l-look, it’d b-b-be great.”

I didn’t want to go there, but I knew one of us needed to. “Mr. Malfoy, could you please put up a silencing charm? Mr. Salisbury, have you had to speak in Defence yet this year?”

“N-n-not y-yet.”

“We’ve managed to deflect her so far,” said Buggins. “She hasn’t treated Andrew or Tyrone very well, so we guessed she might not treat Titch properly either.”

“Yeah man, I’se okay wi’ taking her stuff if it keeps her from messing with Titch. We’s been buds from las’ year.” That was Tyrone.

“That’s good, but don’t you go talking Patois in her hearing,” I said. “That could end you in detention like what happened to Lee.” He nodded his understanding. I turned back to Titch. “I assume none of the other teachers have any worries about your speech?”

He shook his head while de Vries said, “we thought that Snape might be a bit nasty about it, but he’s careful to word his questions to give Titch the space he needs to answer.”

Malfoy nodded, “he’s actually the best of the teachers about it. One of last year’s Slytherin prefects is a stutterer. His blocks didn’t seem to have any pattern, but over the years Professor Snape spent time helping him learn to cast nearly everything wordless and he’s now a really strong magic user.”

Salisbury looked up hopefully, “r-r-r-really? H-h-how d-does w-w-w-word——l-less w-work?”

“We don’t understand that yet, but Professor Flitwick has us in the middle of a series of essays on it, so as we find out we can talk to you guys about it,” said Neville.

“Mr. Salisbury,” said Justin, “ordinarily I wouldn’t ask this question, but what’s your status?”

“H-h-half-blood. Wh-why?”

“And where in the South-East do you come from?”

“Rye.”

“So, you were raised in the muggle world?”

“M-m-mostly. Th-th-there’s a fe-fe-fe-few witches there.”

“What did Madam Pomphrey turn up in your annual medical check?”

He looked as bewildered as I felt. “Ah, Finch-Fletchley,” I said, “what medical check are you talking about?”

“All students who were raised outside the magical world are supposed to have a full medical check every year with the School Nurse. Those raised within the magical world don’t need it at school unless their parent or guardian requests it because it didn’t happen in August.”

Malfoy and Neville nodded, as did Buggins and de Vries.

“Well, I’ve never had one,” I said. “Mind you I’ve been in the Hospital Wing enough times every year, so maybe she just did it when I was there.”

Tenggara said, “I had mine last year, but I haven’t been told when this year’s one is yet.”

Jordan, Salisbury, and Samuel looked at each other. “None of us three had one,” said the latter.

I looked up and saw that Charlotte had come into the Common Room. “Excuse me a moment,” I said to the guys.

“Ms. Trenery,” I called as I walked over to her.

She looked up and smiled. “Yes, Mr. Potter?”

“There’s some confusion over here about the supposed annual health checks. Could you please come over and assist?”

“Supposed?” she said as she came back with me. “There’s nothing supposed about them. All students have to have them to remain students at the school. It’s a condition of admission that you either have a certificate from an authorised healer to show that you had one in August or agree to have one in the first week of term with the School Nurse.”

“First week?” came from us all.

“Umm, this is my fifth year at school and I’ve never had one at all,” I said. “These three didn’t have one last year either, and no-one here’s had any notification of an appointment yet this year.”

“I gave my certificate to Pomphrey as we came into the Great Hall on the first night,” said Neville and the other three Pure-bloods nodded agreement.

Charlotte looked thoughtful for a moment. “Alright, I’ve got prefects’ meeting this evening, so let me talk to them about this and I’ll get back to you at breakfast tomorrow.”

We thanked her and let her depart, while Malfoy let the silencing charm gradually lapse.

“Now,” said Justin, “when is your free period tomorrow?”

Buggins pulled out his timetable, “ah, we’ve got a single before lunch.”

“Excellent, that matches ours. Let’s meet here and we can start looking at some of your questions.”

Their eyes lit up. “Cool, catch you tomorrow.” And they ran off, while we headed in the direction of our room.

We settled at our desks to carry on reading the books we’d checked out from the Library earlier. I picked up the Dragonology book, which promptly tried to hide its contents again. I just muttered “dead House Elves” at it and it wriggled a bit then gave in. I skim-read the Introduction to see if I could get some clue as to why Madam Pince had recommended it.

“The principal difference between dragons and wyverns is the number of legs with the former having four and the latter but a single pair, and yet a dragonet has the power and ability to choose which to manifest as. […] A single dragonet will usually alternate between the two, but weyrs will behave differently depending on various factors.

“The most amusing is when there are an even number in the weyr and they are persuaded to launch out into a circle. In that case they will alternate forms around the circle and will adjust their colours so that no dragonet retains their natural colouring and no pair around the circle are the same colour. For obvious reasons, I have called this the Harlequin effect.”

No, it’s not obvious, I yelled inside my head. If it were, I wouldn’t be looking for it. Then I noticed a blotch after the word effect. I wondered if it was a footnote marker and ran my eye down to the bottom of the page.

“* See page 73 ff for details on how Dragonets achieve this effect.”

The book was reluctant to let me turn forwards that many pages in one go, but I persisted and eventually got it to open there. The first words that I spotted were “magical affinity” and the irrelevant thought went through my mind, ‘I can cope with dark, grey, and light dragons, but I really hope there aren’t muggleborn dragons.’ I shook myself and started reading properly.

It would appear that when dragonets meet each other a little bit of their magic reaches out and connects. The larger the group, the more magic there is between them and the critical mass for the Harlequin effect to take place is twelve. It also happens with larger groups and there is a considerable power boost when there are 24 in the group, “for not only do they alternate in form around the circle, but every twenty seconds the whole weyr blinks out of existence and all the individuals remanifest in the opposite form while maintaining their chosen colours.

“There is no knowledge of what happens with larger weyrs as the dragon reserves that this author has been involved with have never had more than 25 dragonets at a time. However, it is speculated that the duodecimal pattern would continue and there will be further boosts at 36 and 48.”

Duodecimal? So, base 12. Multiple of two, three, four and six. Four. Four of us, two sets of three strands. Oh, we did a 24-strand magic net earlier. What’s the magical significance of the number 12? Does this mean I need to drop Divination and take up Arithmancy instead? I hoped not, as I didn’t think I could cope with another new subject.

I looked up to see the other three staring at me.

“What?”

“Are you okay? You’ve just groaned about something.”

“Oh. Sorry, I didn’t know I’d said anything. I was just wondering if I needed to add Arithmancy to my subjects this year, but really hoping not.”

“What’s got you going in that direction?”

“Is there a magical significance to the number twelve?”

“Uh, yeah,” said Malfoy with an ‘are you serious’ look on his face. “It’s probably the most significant number in magic, that there is. The uneducated go on about seven, but that’s just a prime and nothing really happens unless you square it.”

“And what about multiples of twelve?”

“Every time you add another twelve to magic, you increase its potential by an order of magnitude.”

“So, this afternoon …” I broke off. “An order of magnitude?”

Malfoy nodded, while Justin managed to follow my thoughts. “Four of us and three links means twelve, and we doubled the links, so …”

“Exactly. Just how much power happened there?”

Justin looked at Malfoy. “Well I guess this is what our Arithmancy project is going to be. Might as well integrate it with our other learning.”

To our surprise he shook his head. “No, we can’t risk that. Remember what Flitwick said about the female teacher who’s a closet supporter of Riddle? McGonagall and Hooch are out, not least because they're in the Potter wills. Trelawney and Burbage are unlikely candidates for sex-magic, which leaves three possibilities, Sinistra, Babbling, and Vector. Referring, even obliquely, to our affinity in the presence of any of them or in our assignments is likely to lead to trouble.”

“Oh, drat. I’d forgotten that in the desperate attempt to avoid the prospect of sex education.”

“Anyway Harry,” said Neville, “what brought this on?”

I explained about the groups of dragonets. I avoided the word “weyr” because I didn’t want to get mixed up with McCaffrey’s _Dragonriders of Pern_ series. That Hungarian Horntail was nothing like the benign version she wrote about. “It doesn’t really explain what I’m trying to grasp with the Harlequin thing, but it’s a start.”

“Well, it gives us some ideas of avenues to think about as we work towards understanding our combined magic.”

“Yeah,” replied Neville. “I wonder what would happen if we sent out nine or twelve strands each.”

“Probably more magic than we’d be able to control at present. That would be well more than accidental magic. If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather stay on this side of the Veil,” responded Malfoy.

Justin stretched and said, “well, I think I’ve had enough for today. I’m going to bed.”

There was general agreement and, as we turned from our desks, Dobby popped into the room and started folding down the covers on our beds.

“Thank you, Dobby,” came in a general chorus.

There was a single squeak of pleasure from him before he vanished again. We did our teeth, wished each other a good night and climbed into bed.


	20. The Cursed Dinner Service

Tuesday 9 September

I was woken by a gentle shake on my shoulder and looked up to find Justin standing beside me. I nodded, then stretched.

“I need to have a pee, then I’ll join you,” I whispered.

We slipped quietly from the room and made our way up to the seventh floor where I repeated my actions and thoughts of the previous afternoon. A door appeared, which I opened with a flourish. “After you, my dear sir.”

Justin stepped through and stopped suddenly. “How …?”

“I don’t know how it works, but let’s use it.”

I followed him in and closed the door behind me. We went through a tunnel and out on to the running track. Climbing the stairs had done us quite well as a warm-up so we started running immediately. We did one circuit at a moderate pace, then carried straight on at a faster pace. When we got back to the starting point, a table had appeared with cups of water on it. We gratefully drank off a couple of cups each, then went twice round doing the HIIT thing.

“You know, I hadn’t realised just how big a Quidditch pitch is,” commented Justin. “I can only manage twice round that. We’ve already done four of this and I think I could do another.”

“It’s not much bigger than a standard Olympic-sized stadium,” I said as we jogged on. “The difference is, we were running around the outside and the ground is somewhat uneven. Here we’ve got a proper surface to run on and we’re on the inside.”

We finished the circuit and I thanked the room before we headed back into the tunnel under the stadium. As I closed the door behind us it seemed to dissolve and there was once again solid wall.

“That was great Harry. Thank you.”

I shrugged and said that it was no problem.

“But, how did you find out about it? I mean I knew there was a gym, but not a track and field stadium.”

“Well, Fred and George showed me, but there isn’t a stadium.”

“What do you mean? We’ve just been in there.”

“It was a sitting room when they took me there on Sunday evening. It seems to change to meet your requirements. Dobby says the house elves call it the Come-and-Go Room.”

We reached our room, were tested by the wards, and entered just as Neville and Draco finished in the bathroom. Justin started waxing on about the stadium.

“Finch-Fletchley, I can cope without not having known about the gym, but really? A stadium? Surely, we would have known about that before now. We would have used it for those Quidditch games when the weather was dire.”

“I don’t think it’s always there. When Fred and George took me up there, it was a small sitting room.”

“A sitting room? Where exactly is this room of wonders?”

“Seventh floor. Near the troll’s ballet.”

“But that’s an empty corridor.”

I shrugged and followed Justin into the bathroom to shower and get ready for the day.

When the four of us came out to the Common Room ready to head down to breakfast we found Charlotte waiting for us with a serious look on her face.

“It would appear, gentlemen, that there is something very wrong. Only those who have been through Slytherin House knew anything about the checks for those raised in the Muggle world. And of the magic-raised, only those whose parents have attended Hogwarts in the past knew about the requirement for the certificate.”

“But, how did I …?” started Justin.

“You would appear to be an anomaly, except for one thing. I take it that Professor Snape was the teacher who visited your family.”

“Ah, yes? And?”

“Well, he’s the common factor between you and Slytherin knowing about the checks.”

“That would explain the assessment in my first year, but not the next three while I was in Hufflepuff.”

She shrugged and said, “anyway, I’ve been delegated the task of talking to Professor Flitwick about it for the Ravenclaw students who haven’t had a check-up yet this year.”

We walked down to breakfast with her and told her about the Second Year students we had been allocated and how we were going to meet them later on in the morning.

“Would you like me to arrange for a snack?” she offered. “The chief house elf for Ravenclaw is very good about such things.”

“We’ve already met Anaï,” said Neville.

“Thank you for offering, but we’ll be able to sort something out ourselves,” said Malfoy. “You have more than enough to do, on top of your NEWTs work.”

She grimaced. “Oh, don’t remind me. We’re only one week into term and I already feel I’m drowning in work.”

“We understand exactly what you mean,” said Justin. “Quite what it’s going to be like when Quidditch starts for Potter and Malfoy on top of everything else we’re doing, I’m not sure. Oh, hell.”

The reason for his last exclamation became clear as we came into the Main Foyer to see Umbridge standing grimly at the entrance to the Great Hall. She was making sure that people went to the ‘proper’ tables. I had a brief vision of her doing points duty in the middle of an intersection, and idly wondered how she would deal with an articulated lorry that needed to turn across where she was standing.

When we entered, I could see that the Headmaster was already seated. Today’s robes were bright orange with a swirling purple pattern. Laplace and one of the other guys from his room were in our usual spot eating croissants with bowls of milky coffee in front of them.

“Experiment time? Or do we shove them down a bit?” I muttered to Justin who had come beside me down the aisle.

“Nah, not fair to move them. Let’s see what happens.” He nodded over the table to Neville and Malfoy and we let a few juniors go around us to head down closer to the end closest to the head table. I took a deep breath, then walked down a few places beyond Laplace toward an empty space. There was a loud scraping noise from the front of the hall, which caused everyone to go quiet and look up. Dumbledore’s throne had been shoved back a couple of metres from the table. He had a spoon in his hand and was looking startled. The other staff had looks ranging from bemusement to concern. He waved to us all to continue and as we sat, we saw him attempt to stand up, but he was unsuccessful.

“Long may he not work it out,” I muttered and turned my attention to a green coloured concoction that had appeared in front of me. “What is this?”

“It’s a protein smoothie.”

“But it’s green, and not a particularly attractive shade either. Are you getting me back for putting you in the bin yesterday afternoon?”

He laughed. “No, hadn’t even thought of that. Nah, it’s a standard berry smoothie with spinach in it. So, it’s got lots of good antioxidants in it, but still tastes like berries. The colour is just unfortunate.”

I tentatively sipped at it. “Well, it’s not horrible,” I said in an echo of Malfoy the other day. “But I’m not sure that it’s something I want regularly. There’s an undertaste of green that I’m not keen on.”

“That’s okay, we can replace it.”

I looked puzzled at him. “You mean throw it away? No. Throwing food away is not an option. It was made with care especially for me. The least I can do is be grateful and eat it.”

He raised his hands defensively. “Okay, okay, I get it.”

“But do you? No one’s ever …” I broke off, not wanting to say too much right then.

There was also the general distraction of Dumbledore trying to get out of his chair with a degree of dignity. It couldn’t go any further back as it was already against the wall.

“Remember this position,” I muttered to Justin between sips. “It’s the furthest forward I can be if he’s already in here. Whatever they did to set it up will cause him pain.”

“Relax, it will do him good to miss a couple of meals.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to harm him, and at the same time we don’t want him to find out until after the formal reading.”

“Sure. Look, I’ll talk to Terry about the possibility of us usually sitting where he and Michael are. You head off to Transfiguration with Neville and we’ll follow you.”

We watched for the best moment and got up as several groups from across all the tables stood. We were just in time to see Dumbledore stand on the throne and climb over the side. Most of the staff were continuing to eat and pretending that nothing unusual was happening alongside them. As I walked away up the hall, there was a crash. On turning to look, I could see that Dumbledore was able to reach the Head Table once more. He must have stumbled in that direction while I was walking. I shrugged and left the Hall to head up to McGonagall’s classroom.

Umbridge was still in the entryway and she eyed me suspiciously as Neville and I walked past her. I pretended not to notice her and asked Neville, “do you think we’ll manage the tea set today?”

“I hope so,” he replied. “I was dreaming about it last night. It was a bit _Alice in Wonderland_ as the teapot kept getting up and walking away.”

“Hem, hem.”

I looked around vaguely in the wrong direction.

“Mr. Potter, I am over here.”

I turned around completely in the opposite direction with a puzzled look on my face. “Oh, Professor Umbridge. I’m sorry, I didn’t see you. How are you, on this lovely morning?”

“Mr. Potter,” she exclaimed. “Do not patronise me.”

“I’m sorry, Professor, but what shop is it that you own that you don’t want me to go to?”

“Shop? What are you blathering about?”

“Well, shopkeepers are always after my Aunt to go and patronise them. Because if she shopped there, then others in the neighbourhood would as well. Aunt Petunia is something of a trend-setter in Little Whinging.”

“That is not what I meant.”

“I’m so sorry. Could you explain it to me then? As you will be aware, we Ravenclaws are always eager to learn new things.”

She paused to give me a grim look that had me shivering inside, but I tried to keep the enquiring look on my face.

“I meant to imply that you are not to condescend to me.”

“Of course not, Professor. Now, we must go to our first class. We’ll see you later, Professor.”

We got away and up the stairs.

“Harry,” muttered Neville. “You were pushing it close there. Be more careful.”

“I know, but at least she didn’t get to say whatever it was she was going to. So, we can still truthfully say that we don’t know.”

“Okay, but she’s determined to try and get you into detention. And the more you needle her, the harder she’ll try.”

“I know. I’ve also got to make sure that I’m never alone with her. There has to always be someone as a witness,” I finished as we turned into the classroom and went to our seats.

Teasets were then the order of the morning. Or rather various lame attempts. Goyle managed to turn his block of wood into metal, but it wouldn’t then let itself be shaped into anything. Ron achieved a teapot, but it kept degenerating after about 10 seconds and he had to keep doing it again. Justin’s, of course, was perfect—the cups and saucers were of finest bone china, while the silver teapot sat proudly beside them on a small straw mat.

Parkinson managed something that looked like standard British Rail issue—thick, solid and plain. Only problem was, the cups and teapot had no bases. Zabini somehow managed to produce a latte bowl with a tall coffee pot, while Neville’s block of wood just got flatter and more spread out, like a piece of decking timber.

Then Malfoy and I accidentally knocked shoulders just as we were both casting, and suddenly in front of us was a complete dinner service for twelve. McGonagall had been sitting at her desk watching us all with a wry look on her face, but that made her leap to her feet. At the same time Justin let out a low whistle of surprise and Neville just stared open mouthed. I was more worried about the fact that a dinner service for that many people doesn’t fit on a couple of school desks.

I looked about wondering where to put everything when Malfoy gave a short laugh and pointed to something. When we looked where he was pointing, I realised that our blocks of wood were still there.

“So, how did we do that?” I asked. “We can’t have broken Gamp’s Law and created them from nothing, so …”

“Yes, Potter, so …” he sneered. Then after a few seconds, “Oh, for goodness sake. Pick something up.”

I reached out to grab a plate and my hand went right through. “An illusion? But, how?” I gasped.

“How indeed, Mr. Potter,” came from Professor McGonagall. “I take it the team-casting that you and Mr. Malfoy did was accidental.”

We both nodded.

“However, you have spontaneously created an example of Illusionary Transfiguration. And a very fine example at that. Usually first attempts at this end up in Chimeric Transfiguration instead.”

I think my face might have taken on an Hermione look as she sighed, then said loudly, “all right everyone, you might as well all learn this now. This is material that I had planned to cover later in the term, however as there is a good example in front of us, we’ll take the opportunity to discuss it now.

“There are three main branches of Transfiguration: Transubstantial, Consubstantial, and Insubstantial. Up until now, we’ve been working on the first of these as Transubstantial is the easiest concept to grasp. This is because it is concrete, as opposed to abstract. The first object has a particular form and function and the second object has a different form and function.

“Consubstantial transformed objects have function but don’t have form, while Insubstantial do the opposite—form without function. Let me give an example of each.” And she placed three blocks of wood on her desk. “First, transubstantial.” She waved her wand and a large silver teapot appeared in place of the block of wood. She picked it up and poured a cup of tea.

“Now, consubstantial.” This time the block of wood stayed as it was, but she picked it up and poured a cup of tea.

“And, insubstantial.” A silver teapot with fine filigree chasing appeared. She lifted the lid and tipped it towards us so that we could see that it was still solid wood on the inside.

“There is a second type of insubstantial transfiguration, which is what Messrs Potter and Malfoy have produced over there. You may have noticed that I very carefully didn’t touch anything there. Does anyone want to hazard a guess as to why?”

Nott raised his hand and, after being called on, said, “Illusionary Transfigurations nearly always have a version of the Midas curse attached to them. Only the caster can touch the illusion with impunity. You never know which particular manifestation it will have until you touch it. Some will be benign, such as being stuck at the table for an hour—although for everyone who touches you to try and pull you away, the time is increased by another hour and they are then stuck as well. Other manifestations are not so harmless and will often result in an untimely demise.”

“Five points, Mr. Nott. Yes, Ms. Davis?”

“How does the curse get attached? I mean, how far does intent go?”

“As Mr. Nott said, nearly all Illusionary Transfigurations have the curse. The virulence of it is linked to intent, but it takes an exceptionally strong caster to perform it without a curse being attached. Such a person will hold several Masteries in the various forms of Transfiguration and is likely to also hold at least one Mastery in Defence.”

I raised my hand, “is there a way for the casters to find out the type of curse they have created? Other than the obvious one of picking a victim.”

“You could try _revelio de la malédiction_. There are other ways, but, as they fall more into Defence, I cannot talk about them. And, yes I do know that that’s a strange mixture of Latin and French.”

Malfoy looked at each other and shrugged, then we deliberately touched shoulders.

“On three, Potter, one … two … three. Revelio de la malediction.”

I saw red-spell light glow from each place setting, then said in a shaky voice, “Justin, can you see that?”

“No, all I can still see is the illusion.”

“Potter, that is the same red, isn’t it?”

“Yes, at least I’m pretty sure it is.”

“Professor,” he said to McGonagall, “you were right not to touch anything. The curse attached is a _Crucio_. Now, how do we get rid of this?” And he waved at the illusion.

“Only you can do that. You need to untransfigure. The basic spell usually works.”

“Scared Potter?”

“Actually, yes.”

“So am I,” he whispered back.

“Just before you cast,” said Neville, “swap positions so that it’s your other shoulders that touch.”

Justin said, “well thought, Neville. Very well thought.”

We did that, then cast the untransfigure spell that we had been taught early in first year. To our relief the dinner service dissolved and vanished leaving us with our blocks of wood in front of us. Without realising we had been holding a stiff position we both blew out our breath and slumped against each other.

“That was actually scary,” I said.

Malfoy just nodded in agreement.

“While I don’t normally permit students to eat in my class, you two may each have a piece of chocolate.”

I reached into my bag and pulled out the trusty bar of Honeydukes’. I offered it to Malfoy before breaking off a piece for myself.

“Now, before we go any further, what did you mean when you said the curse was _Crucio_?”

“Just that Professor, we both recognised the colour of the spell-light coming off the illusion. There is only one spell that has that particular shade of red.”

Malfoy piped up, “and before anyone asks how we know the colour, remember that it was demonstrated in front of all of us last year by our Defence teacher.”

McGonagall’s lips compressed into a thin line as she recalled exactly who that was and how he had met his end in her presence.

“So, you believe that if anyone had touched your illusion, they would have felt some pain?”

“No, I _know_ they would have been gripped by pain so excruciating that they would have wished they could die.”

“And without testing it, we don’t know when or if it would have lifted,” added Malfoy.

There was a scoffing sound from the Slytherin part of the room.

“Professor, do you have a projection stone available?”

“Yes, Mr. Malfoy, I do.”

“May we use it to show what we saw when did the revealing spell?”

She looked speculatively at us for a moment, then nodded. The stone was summoned and we both brought the memory to the front of our minds, then each laid the index fingers our hands on the stone. Immediately there rose above it an image of the dinner service and the two of us casting the revelio. The red glow we had seen then manifested around each setting and pulsed in invitation.

The room went silent as they stared at it. Then, when we lifted our hands away from the stone and the image vanished again, a babble of muttering broke out and continued until Nott spoke up, “oh, for goodness sake, weren’t you listening before? All illusionary transfigurations come with curses, regardless if you are light, dark or grey. And the type of curse is not a result of where the caster sits on the political spectrum.”

“Quite correct, Mr. Nott,” said Professor McGonagall glaring the room back into quiet.

“But,” said Parkinson, “for the curse to be so pure and strong …”

“That merely speaks to the strength of the caster, as we discussed last week when I told you about Wing Chen’s Principle of Magical Decay. And remember that this was a pair-casting. Such are always stronger as the magic is combined.”

Simone raised her hand. “Yes, Ms. Thatcher?”

“When is something an illusionary transfiguration? I mean, aren’t glamours the same thing?”

McGonagall looked relieved to have a question that steered away from the topic of unforgiveable curses. “Excellent question. Glamours are actually part of transubstantial transfiguration. This because they change form and function. Glamoured hair can be cut, for example. Someone glamoured to be a different height sees from that new height. However, before you all rush off to make appearance changes, do remember that glamours have to be maintained. Wing Chen’s Principle of Magical Decay applies to them as well. If a glamour is to continue for more than few hours, then it will constantly use some of your magic to keep it going.

“You may well shrug this off, thinking that it’s only a trickle. However, there are times when you will need access to the full power of all your magic and if you’ve been leeching it away it simply won’t be there. Before you ask for examples of when you will need all your magic, I have to say that protective charms are currently outside of what I’m allowed to talk about. So, I will only remind you that one of the factors in Wing Chen’s Principle is the strength of the caster.”

I sensed Justin and Neville looking at me speculatively and knew they were wondering how much of my magic was going into maintaining my glamours. I had gotten so used to them being there that I was able to ignore the magic that they used.

“Yes, Mr. D’Ath?”

“I was wondering about the tea that you poured from the two transfigured teapots. How do the exceptions to Gamp’s Law apply to those?”

“Another good question. Two points. Oh, and two points Ms. Thatcher for your earlier question. I presume you are thinking about the food creation exception. As you will already be aware, water is an exception to the exception. Again, I am restricted on what I can tell you, but the temperature of the water produced can be adjusted. As Deputy Headmistress I can tell you that learning how to do that is in the syllabus for this year. When I transfigured the teapot, I added boiling water. I have a packet of tea leaves in my desk and so was able to combine some of them in. The final part of the transfiguration was moving the steeping process forwards by a few minutes. The result was a pot of drinkable tea.

“Now, for your OWL exam, you will be expected to be able to explain the three classes of transfigurations. However, for the practical you will only be asked to produce transubstantial examples.

“For Thursday morning’s class, please hand in 2 feet on the inter-relationship of form and function and it’s applicability to magic in general and transfiguration in particular.

“Dismissed.”


	21. Hostile and Friendly Spells

I won’t bother with the details of the Charms’ class, as a discussion on cushioning charms will hold only minimal interest to Readers of this narrative. [Hermione tells me that book writers from the Victorian sometimes addressed their readers directly with words like ‘dear Reader’. It feels a bit artificial, so I won’t do it very often.]

We reached the Common Room at the same time as the Second Years did.

“We’ve just come from History,” said Buggins. “Gee that bloke needs to learn to teach in the modern age.”

We laughed. “This is our fifth year of falling asleep in Binns’ class,” said Justin.

“Mind you, it’s useful time to catchup on other assignments,” I threw in. “I did quite a bit of that last year. Even though I was exempt from the end of year exams, I was still expected to keep up with all the class material.”

Malfoy herded the ten of us over the same table we’d used the previous night. As we arrived there, he knocked on the table twice. A jug of pumpkin juice, a pot of tea and a plate of scones appeared.

“Just a light elevenses,” he offered. There was a chorus of thank you, with me directing mine to Dobby. Then, as everyone tucked in, Malfoy continued, “now, I’ve given some consideration as to how to set this up for you. Every Tuesday morning we’ve got 45 minutes. We’ll spend the first 30 minutes covering one subject with you and the other 15 minutes you can ask anything you like about the other subjects.”

They nodded.

“Good. Today is Transfiguration. Now, Mr. Jordan tell us about the different types of Transfiguration you’ve covered so far.”

He screwed his eyes up for a moment, then launched into a rapid list. “Solid to solid, liquid to liquid, living to object, plain to decorated, …” He tailed off when Malfoy lifted a hand.

“That wasn’t quite what I meant.” He turned to de Vries, “what about you having a go? What are the terms that Professor McGonagall uses when she talks about different Transfigurations?”

He managed to get three of them and with Draco’s encouragement the other four were pulled out of the boys.

Justin then took over and asked them to give three examples of each type. As I listened, I realised that they only knew about the transubstantial branch of transfiguration. Then I thought about what we had just learnt and realised that this was a good thing.

It was then my turn to add something, so I started talking about intent.

“I-isn’t th-th-that j-j-j-j-just in Charms?”

I explained that Charms was where most of the general magical theory was taught and that we should expect to apply it to our other subjects.

“Even in Herbology and History?” came the quick response from Tenggara with a cheeky grin.

“Well, maybe not History, but you do need to be able to apply the principles of intent in Herbology and even Astronomy. It especially applies in Transfiguration. If you can’t conceive what the end result will look and feel like, then it won’t matter how often you say the words and wave your wand, you simply won’t get the desired result – and most often no result at all.”

Neville said, “a phrase that Professor Flitwick uses in Fourth Year is ‘intent, word, action, result’. These are the four components of a successful charm and it’s the same in Transfiguration. At present both he and McGonagall are teaching you how to do specific things. From next year, they’ll start teaching you why magic works best in particular ways.”

We then fielded some random questions on Potions (how the different parts of belladonna change the nature of a potion), Herbology (the best way to cultivate hellebore) and History (the real origins of the Second War Goblin Giant war). I noted, to my sorrow, that there were no questions on DADA—they didn’t even bother pulling out their books.

“Right then, off with you. We’ve got an enthralling afternoon to prepare for: double Defence followed by double History; and we need every bit of psychological preparation we can find.”

They laughed at that, thanked us and ran off. We went up to our room, swapped our books over, took our turns at the loo and headed for lunch, where bowls of cock-a-leekie soup, and a platter of well-buttered freshly baked rye bread greeted us as we sat down. I wasn’t too sure about the prunes, but still managed to eat most of my bowl as well as a couple of slices of bread.

Justin noticed and just nodded approvingly. This quiet encouragement was so much easier than dealing with Hermione’s constant nagging at me to eat and then putting up with Ron’s food vacuuming habits. I felt a little guilty at such disloyal thoughts, but quickly squashed that. I knew I needed all my wits about me for our Defence class.

We were met at the door of the classroom by Professor Umbridge, who asked us to drop off our précises in the tray on her desk as we entered and went to our assigned desks.

“Good afternoon, children,” she intoned in her sickliest voice.

We dutifully chorused back.

“How lovely it is to see your smiling faces looking back at me, eager to learn and fill in all those knowledge gaps that have crept in over the years. Today, we’re going to start with a little quiz about what we’ve learnt so far. Then we’ll move on to Chapter Three.”

Oh, be still my beating heart, I thought. I can’t wait to find out what’s in Chapter Three.

A quick wave of her wand saw a piece of parchment arrive face-down on everyone’s desks.

“Alright, children, take out your quills and ink. Is everybody ready?”

“Yes, Professor Umbridge.”

“Excellent. You may begin.”

I turned over the parchment and began to skim through the questions. There were thirteen and they started with “who is the author of the excellent textbook that we are using this year?” and finished with “using no more than 59 words, describe in detail the differences between the defensive and offensive wand holds.”

Shades of bloody Lockhart, or what? I thought grimly as I bent to the task of scribbling in answers.

“Whatever are you doing Mr. Boot?”

“Answering the quiz, Professor.”

“What is that device you are using?”

“A pen, Professor.”

I groaned mentally. I had forgotten that Terry was unable to use quills because of his allergy to birds.

“You are required to use a quill at Hogwarts.”

“Actually Professor, I am not. I have a special dispensation because of my medical condition.”

“A dispensation?” her voice shook with indignation. “And from whom, may I ask?”

“It is signed by the Headmaster, the Board of Governors and the Chief Medical Officer at St. Mungo’s. Do you need a copy?”

She looked triumphant, “but no-one from the Education Department at the Ministry, which makes it invalid.”

Terry just looked at her, then said, “so the countersignature of Madam Hopkirk as witness to the other signatures is not sufficient? I thought she was the Chief Secretary of the Education Department.”

Someone over to my left sniggered, which immediately caught Umbridge’s attention. “Detention, Mr. McMillan.”

The room went deathly quiet, other than scratching of quills. A short while later I put down my quill.

“Is there a problem, Mr. Potter?”

“No, Professor.”

“Why have you ceased writing?”

“Because I have completed the quiz, Professor.”

“Already?” she flicked her wand and the parchment left my desk and would have landed in her hand except that she missed catching it and it fluttered to the floor. This would be interesting, I thought, will she use magic to bring it back up to her or will she demonstrate her stoutness by attempting to bend over and pick it up? In the end, she did some combination of the two and I could sense her feeling of triumph at having achieved it. Gee, she was small-minded.

Her eyes flicked down through my answers and she just said, “very well, Mr. Potter. Another five minutes, everyone else.”

The quiz over, we started reading Chapter Three, not needing the reminder that there was no need to talk. It was about how to determine whether the person in front of you was hostile or a friend. I thought that it doesn’t really matter who they are, if they’re throwing jinxes and hexes at you, you need to do something.

The writing style was awful and sometimes was so dense that it was impossible to understand what he meant and at other times he wrote the most basic things as if his readers should be excited about what he had to say. I found myself desperately trying to stay focused—or at least awake. I could feel her pudgy eyes on me, and I was determined to not call attention to myself. I’d had plenty of practice at that at Privet Drive, but this felt worse. In the distance, I heard the bell ring and sighed internally. Only half-way through. I turned a page and brightened a moment when I realised there were diagrams. Then the depression set in again. Slinkhard’s diagrams had less meaning than the text. And why are there diagrams for determining hostility when there weren’t any for the wand holds in the last chapter? Just how are we going to get through a whole year of this. Turn the page. Oh, yay a single paragraph that’s longer than both pages in front of me. Words like ‘hereunder’ and ‘albeit’ are sprinkled throughout and they’re the interesting ones. Oooh, ‘just because they smile at you in a friendly manner, it doesn’t mean that they’re actually your friend.’ Now, wasn’t that profound. Can I beat my head against the wall yet? Hmm, has my vision changed suddenly? No, my eyes have just glazed over, and the words have gone blurry. Re-focus. Keep reading, or at least wading through this interminable paragraph that’s so loaded with meaning that my brain will explode with the added knowledge by the time I turn the page and I won’t have room for the conclusion of it. I wonder if he does finish on the next page, or if he carries on through. Would it be cheating to take a sneak peek? Or, would that be like reading the last page of a murder mystery before reading the book? Murder mystery? I don’t think there’d be any mystery about a murdered pink toad. What’s that noise? Oh, it’s Pritchard sighing while he turns the page at the next desk. ‘However, as I mentioned a few sentences previously, knowing what’s going through your enemy’s mind is the best way of predicting what they are going to cast next. That said, reading minds during a battle is often not practical. Hereunder, we shall talk more of this.’ What was that phrase from _Little Shop of Horrors_? Oh, yes, ‘no shit, Sherlock.’ Oh, when will the bell ring and let us out of here? I know it’s History next, but Binns has an engaging and fascinating personality when compared to the Blowhard. Turn the page. Well, that’s a disappointment. The paragraph ends with a single word at the top of the page. Come on, Harry, grit and determination will get you through this. Keep reading.

“Now, children, in the remaining ten minutes we’re going to play a little game,” her voice startled me out of the reverie I had fallen in to and I looked up to see a wolfish smile on her face. This did not bode well. “I will say the name of a spell, then point at someone. That person will then say whether it is a hostile or friendly spell based on what you have just been reading.”

Given he didn’t actually define either of those, this would be interesting.

“Protego,” and she pointed at Hermione.

“Friendly.”

“Correct. Wingardium leviosa,” Malfoy.

“Hostile.”

“Correct. Culcito,” Bones.

“Both, depending on the intent of the caster.”

“Correct. Infomagus,” Crabbe.

“Uh, um, dunno. Never heard of it.”

“Anyone?”

Not a hand went up, not even Hermione’s.

“It’s a friendly spell.”

We all just nodded. No one was willing to ask her what it was.

“Singularis,” Greengrass.

“Usually friendly but would be hostile if battling twins.”

“Correct. Serpentsortia,” me. Well, shit, I don’t think she’ll like this answer.

“Friendly.”

“Incorrect, two points off for insubordination.” And no chance to explain my answer. If someone provided me with a snake in the middle of a battle, I’d consider it friendly of them. It would give me another weapon.

“Episkey,” Seamus.

“Friendly.”

“Correct. Desanguo,” Neville.

“Hostile.”

“Correct. Lex credendum,” Ron.

A long silence ensued before he tentatively said, “I don’t think that’s a real spell, so it wouldn’t matter.”

“Incorrect, two points off for talking rubbish. Reparo,” Davies.

“Neither.”

“Incorrect, two points off. Alohomora,” Bones.

“I can’t answer without more information on the context.”

“Detention with Mr. MacMillan tonight.”

Before the tension in the room could rise any higher, the bell rang and we departed, half to History and the other half to Charms, in complete silence.

Binns floated in through the wall as usual and picked up where he’d left off at the end of the War of the Roses. We’d been hoping for more detail on the four wizards that Grobwitt had trained, but it was not to be. He was back onto the succession of power within the goblin clan that Grobwitt had been part of. Grobwitt lost significance after his third wife was delivered of a new son in what was an unacceptable birth process. Binns was sketchy on the details of this as he was somewhat coy about anything to do with reproduction. At this point my mind wandered off and I spent time wondering when it was that he’d been alive before zoning out completely.

I came to in time to hear Binns say, “and that completes our discussion of Grobwitt. Now we move on to origins of the war between the Goblins of the Nibelungen and the Fae folk of the Arctic Circle. In the Germanic languages, the latter are better known as Valküre—in English Valkyries.” And then, as usual he spouted off a list of names that no-one bothered to scribble down. I mean why would you bother with names like Gerhilde, Ortlinde, Gutrune, Woglinde, Fafner and Schwertleite? The head of the goblins was a bloke called Alberich, which was positively normal in comparison.

“Alberich was a master craftsman and used some gold stolen from the Valküre to forge a ring of power.”

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Malfoy rolling his eyes in an exasperated way. I quirked an eyebrow at him and he muttered, “later.”

Fortunately, the bell rang just as Fafner and his mate Fasolt started their own little war.

As we left the classroom Hermione came across and said, “Malfoy? I know you know a lot more about opera than I do. Wasn’t all that just Wagner’s _Ring Cycle _plot?”

“Yes, Granger. He’s moved a few of the details, but even the names are the same.”

“Wagner?” said Justin. “Wasn’t he that anti-Semitic German composer that Hitler used to justify his atrocities?”

“That’s the one. He was a muggle, but his wife Cosima was a squib and at least one of their children was magical. However, all of his opera plots and libretti were made up and there are no legends in either magical or muggle literature that match them until after they were published. I don’t know where Binns gets off teaching us this as fact.”

Hermione thanked him and left in the direction of the library.

“Thanks, Malfoy, for not brushing her off.”

“Well, if it helps her to see that not everything our most wonderful professors say is accurate or useful, then maybe she’ll stop being so bloody annoying.”

There was nothing to say to that and we made our way to our room chatting about stuff that didn’t matter. Once we were there, though, we were able to start in on Umbridge.

“Did you notice that she avoided asking questions to everyone of colour? She only asked those of us who are white?” I started.

“She’s a really poor excuse of a witch. In the Magical world we got over the colour of skin kind of racism about 300 years ago,” said Malfoy.

“Particularly when some of the mixed-race marriages produced some very powerful wixen,” added Neville.

“What’s going to happen when Ernie’s father finds out about the detention?” asked Justin.

“Don’t worry about that because it’s going to be minor to when Bone’s aunt finds out. She’s the head of the DMLE, and not someone to cross.”

“So, why were those answers wrong?” asked Neville. “Other than Harry’s, of course.”

“None of them were wrong. Mine was correct, for me, because I’m a parseltongue. Lex credendum just means ‘the law of faith’ and comes in the middle of a Roman Catholic saying ‘lex orandi, lex credendi’ meaning what you pray is what you will come to believe. Reparo is neutral and Alohomora is hardly a battle spell.”

“And what about Infomagus?” said Justin.

“Don’t know. Never heard of it. A literal translation would be information about a magician.”

Malfoy got a speculative look on his face and called out, “Dobby!”

Crack! “Master Draco has called Dobby because he needs him for something?”

“Yes. Do you still have access through the wards at Malfoy Manor?”

“Yes, Master Draco, I does.”

“Please go to the library without being seen by anyone, human or creature, and bring me the book called _Historia Britannia Duces Magicis_.”

“Dobby will be doing this for Master Draco.” He clicked his fingers and was gone.

Neville threw himself down on his bed and yawned. “Back-to-back double periods with those two was tiring.”

“Oh no you don’t,” said Justin. “You are not having a snooze now.” And he went over and prodded Neville in the side. The squirm that came in response quickly led into an all-out tickle fight that only ended when Dobby reappeared.

“Dobby has brought the book that Master Draco asked him for. Dobby was very careful to not let anyone see him, or even know that he was there.”

“Thank you, Dobby. You may go now.”

“Master Draco is thanking Dobby for doing such an easy thing. Maybe Master Harry is rubbing off on Master Draco.” And he was gone.

“Well the only rubbing off that’s been happening in here is those two,” and he pointed at Neville and Justin who were trying to adjust themselves.

He put the book on his desk and started flicking through it. “Hah, got it. ‘The title of Infomagus was given to Canute IV because of his encyclopaedic knowledge.’ It goes on to say that he remembered everything and forgot no detail, no matter how small or minor.”

“So, that’s not a spell either?”

“Doesn’t look like it.”

“Who are these Dukes?” asked Justin.

“The first one was appointed by King Alfred to advise him on matters where the magical world overlapped with the muggle. While that role has continued, over time they’ve become independent arbiters on matters that involve the interface between the Crown and the magical world.”

“So, what happened during the War of the Roses?”

“Hadn’t thought of that.” He went forward a chunk in the book. “Oh, because it was a royal appointment and Henry VI was mentally unfit to rule, the Dukedom fell into abeyance during that period when the last appointment died.” He turned a page. “Uh. Really?”

“What?”

“Henry VII appointed one Harold James Potter as his first Dux Magicis. ‘He filled the role admirably and was recognised by the court and the country as unfailingly fair and honourable. He, along with his three companions, restored both the majesty of the crown and the fortunes of the country. He it was who set the magic that separates Diagon Alley and its surrounding area from its non-magical counterpart in the City of London. At the time of the birth of Prince Henry he requested that he be relieved from the role and he went into relative obscurity. The sigils of his and his companions’ power have never been found.’”

He fell silent and then I said, “well, that clears up one mystery and adds others. By the way, who’s the current Duke?”

“I know there was an electoral college recently, so let me check.” And he went to the back of the book. “Oh, glory, it’s Lord MacMillan.”

“Really, she’s about to take on the Dux Magicis and the head of the DMLE at the same time? This should be good.”

And we departed for dinner.


	22. Hufflepuffs in Detention

We managed to sit far enough down the Great Hall to allow Dumbledore to eat his dinner in peace and even to come round to the lectern and make his announcements. Another Educational Decree had been posted and I wondered briefly what she was trying to stop me from doing now.

During dinner we’d had a quiet discussion and, when we were released, I went over to Gryffindor to grab Colin while the others waylaid Ernie and Susan. Then we persuaded them to let Colin take photos of their hands for evidence, before letting them head up to Umbridge’s office.

“Colin, which Fourth Year room are you in?” I asked him.

“The left-hand one. Why?”

“I don’t know what time she’ll let them out, but we’ll need you for photos again before they start using the Murtlap.”

“How will you get me?”

“We’ll send a House Elf called Dobby. He can apparate you to us and then back again.”

He shrugged, “okay” and wandered off.

“Better check the Decree,” said Justin.

“Sure, but not down here,” replied Malfoy, and he led the way back to Ravenclaw Tower.

After solving the riddle before the eagle had finished giving it, we went over to the noticeboard.

Educational Decree

Students shall sit at their designated House tables for all meals.

High Inquisitor

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

“So, no surprises there. Come on, let’s go and get those essays done.”

That said, we went up to our desks and got going. Neville and I had a “compare and contrast” essay to do for Trelawney that was due in the morning, while Justin and Draco were working on some calculations for Arithmancy.

After a bit I checked the Map. They were both there with Umbridge. I sighed and settled back to discussing automatic writing and mirror scrying. When I’d finished, we had an hour to go until curfew, so I decided to pull out the scrolls that Griphook had given me and see what they said about what was in the vaults.

The first I picked up was for Vault 737A, which was the one Mum had left me. My heart beat a little faster as I untied the ribbon before unrolling it.

> Contents of Vault 737A
> 
> Owner: Lily Potter—held in trust for Harry Potter against achieving his first majority.
> 
> Books: 73 volumes of muggle literature; 94 volumes of wizarding fiction; 129 volumes covering the various topics taught at Hogwarts.
> 
> Manuscripts: 3 bound volumes in depositor’s hand
> 
> Folios: 14 volumes of clippings from various newspapers and journals.
> 
> Albums: 6 volumes of photographs, mixed muggle and wizarding.
> 
> File boxes: 7 (contents unknown).
> 
> Trunks: 2 (1 labelled Lily Evans, 1 labelled Lily Potter) (contents unknown).
> 
> Paintings: 17 landscapes
> 
> Cardboard box labelled Harry (contents unknown).

Hmm, I thought, wonder if any of the books would be useful for classes this year, and I grabbed the other scroll and untied it.

> Contents of Vault 736A
> 
> Owner: James Potter—held in trust for Harry Potter against achieving his first majority.
> 
> Books: 11,425 volumes of muggle literature (all First Editions) published 1578–1932 (a Shakespeare First Folio noted); many thousands of volumes of wizarding literature covering all topics from fiction to the obscure (needs cataloguing and organisation).
> 
> Manuscripts: 5 grimoire (contents and author unknown as will only open to those of Potter blood); 27 handwritten volumes bound with string in various hands.
> 
> Portfolios: 17 each containing a range of unmounted artistic works by various artists.
> 
> Albums: 300 volumes philatelic; 47 volumes photographic; 14 numismatic.
> 
> File boxes: several sets of varying colours with multiple boxes in each set. Yellow set are labelled “Accounts”; green set are labelled “Conchology”; pale blue set are labelled “Certificates”; dark blue set are labelled “Historical Notes”; pink set are labelled “Kinfolk”; uncoloured set are labelled “Orders and Awards”.
> 
> Trunks: 24 (1 per head of the family who has attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry).
> 
> Jewellery: various rings, cuff-links, necklaces, bracelets, hat pins, broaches & tiaras.
> 
> Silverware: cutlery, platters, chargers, goblets, and decorative items
> 
> Dinnerware: various sets in various materials
> 
> Glassware: various sets of stemware and other types of drinking vessels; vases, decanters and other practical containers in both lead crystal and plain glass; various decorative pieces
> 
> Ceramics: various decorative pieces
> 
> Weaponry: swords, dirks, crossbows and bolts, battle-axes, unstrung bows and arrows; various sets of armour.
> 
> Magical artifacts: 3 Pensieves (2 affixed to stone pedestals and unable to removed; 1 portable); 1 set magic-binding cuffs; 538 wands (belonging to deceased members of the Potter family)
> 
> Paintings: portraits of most members of the Potter family since 1500 (nothing prior to that date has been verified).
> 
> Pictures: landscapes, still-life, and muggle portraits
> 
> Musical instruments: 2 harpsichords of Flemish make; 3 harpsichords of French make; 1 pair of Virginals (English); 1842 Collard & Collard square piano; 1897 Steinway 8' grand piano; 2 cabinets of viols; 9 violins (1 Amati noted among them); 4 violincellos (1 Stradivarius); 2 double-bass; 1 case of recorders; 1 Böhm clarinet; 2 french horns; 4 lutes; a suite of saxophones; 1 celtic harp; 1 orchestral harp; 10 guitars; 1 banjo; 1 Broadwood and Sons 6' grand piano (1912); 2 drum kits; 1 vibraphone; 3 sets hand-bells; 1 Victrola and discs.
> 
> Furniture: 8 bedsteads; 51 chairs; 16 tables of various sizes
> 
> Title deeds: 5 (Cottage at Godric’s Hollow; Cottage at Ravensdale Priory; Cottage at Lower Salazar; The Potter’s Shed; The Three Broomsticks)
> 
> Keys: 5 sets (1 for each of the above properties)
> 
> Deeds of Ownership: 12 House Elves; 3 Gardener Gnomes; 7 Fae Folk; 15 Owls (various); 3 clowders of Kneazles; 1 Basilisk corpse; 4 Wyverns; 1 Opaleye; 1 Married Couple and their children …

“What the fuck?” I exclaimed.

“What’s wrong?” came from the others.

“I’ve just got round to looking at the vault contents scrolls that Griphook left with me on Sunday. Listen to this.” And I read them the list of Deeds of Ownership.

“How can I own Fae Folk, Dragonfolk and Humans? Isn’t that slavery? I mean, I can understand House Elves, Gnomes and the owls and kneazles, but …”

I broke off and buried my head in my hands. “If Hermione finds out any of this, none of us will hear the end of it for the rest of our lives.”

Neville snorted at that, then in a sober voice, “I don’t know, I’ve never heard of a family owning people before. Draco?”

“Me neither. I think the best person to ask about this would be my mother. Shall I write to her on your behalf?”

I thought about it, then decided against it. “No, we can ask her in person on Sunday at the meeting.”

I suddenly remembered Susan and Ernie and checked the Map. They were still in Umbridge’s office.

“What’s that, Harry?” asked Justin.

“Uh, um,” I hemmed for a moment, then took courage. “It’s a Map of the Castle and grounds. It shows where everyone is.”

“Where did you get it from?”

I decided to skim over that and went straight for, “it was made by my dad, Sirius and Professor Lupin back when they were at school here.”

They came over to look.

“So who are Messrs Prongs, Padfoot, Mooney and Wormtail?”

“Well, Mooney is Professor Lupin because of the werewolf thing and the others are named for their animagus forms. Dad was a stag and Sirius is a big black dog.”

“And Wormtail?”

“Pettigrew,” said Malfoy in a tight voice.

I looked at him.

“I know Wormtail. He hangs around the Dark … Riddle most of the time. Which means he’s around at the Manor quite a bit. He’s a vicious, mean-spirited rat of a man. I hadn’t realised that his real name was Peter Pettigrew. Everyone just calls him Wormtail.”

“Draco …” said Neville quietly. “There’s something else, isn’t there?”

Malfoy sighed, then said, “he’s a kiddy-fiddler with a preference for girls, but not above trying with boys.”

“Do any of the adults know?”

“Not sure. I didn’t tell anyone as he never got that far with me, although he did try it on over the summer. I think he was just desperate and …”

“What does that mean?” Justin was pointing to an area of the Map that had just flashed red.

I took a closer look and grinned, “whoever’s in that room have gotten very close to each other. The Map blanks out the names and blushes when that happens.”

“So, there’s no way of finding out who’s in that room? What if it was rape?”

“In a room that is the shared chambers of two members of the teaching staff? You really want to imagine what they’re doing together?”

“Urghh, no.”

“Didn’t think so. Now, Umbridge just has Susan and Ernie in there tonight,” and I redirected their attention to the Defence rooms.

“How are you going to get to them so that Colin knows to come and take those photos?” asked Neville.

“I’ll be across there waiting for them to come out.”

“But, Harry, Snape’s on patrol tonight. If he catches you, he won’t be happy.”

“It’s okay, he won’t see me.”

“How?”

I pulled out the Cloak. “Because of this,” and I swung it over me flicking the hood up as I did so.

“Bloody hell!” came from Justin.

“So, that’s how you’ve managed to get through so many adventures at night,” said Neville. “I could never work it out.”

Malfoy crossed his arms and just glared at me—or rather the space where I had just disappeared from. Then I remembered the snowball incident outside the Shrieking Shack and pulled the Cloak off again.

“Where did you get this from?” he asked.

“It was my father’s. Dumbledore had borrowed it and returned it to me my first Christmas here at Hogwarts. Anyway, it’s how I helped Friday night’s detention people—including Colin—get the medical assistance from Snape.”

“Why not Pomphrey?”

“Well, after this health checks thing, don’t you think she’s somewhat in Dumbledore’s pocket? And how much does he actually care about the welfare of us students? Unless, of course, it promotes some scheme he’s got going,” I ended bitterly.

The others acknowledged the truth of that, then the curfew bell rang. The others prepared for bed, while I changed into some of Dudley’s warmer clothes before heading out.

“I’ll be back within half an hour of her letting them go,” I promised before slipping out with the Map in hand and Cloak in place.

I made my way to the same armour niche that I’d used the other night and settled to wait. While I did so, I idly ran my eye over the map. Hermione was just getting back to Hufflepuff from the library. Snape was prowling a couple of floors below me and Flitwick was on the floor above. The other teachers were either in their offices or their bedrooms. All seemed normal except what was going on in Umbridge’s office. I panicked for a moment when I couldn’t find the guys in our room, then realised that the Map was recording them as being in our old room. Not even the Map was going to give away that secret and a twinge of affection for the Marauders ran through me.

After about 90 minutes, there was movement in Umbridge’s office and shortly after the door opened and Susan and Ernie appeared in the corridor. Umbridge’s toad-face was outlined in the door for a moment and her girlish voice could be heard wishing them “a very good night.”

Neither deigned to give her a response but headed up the corridor in my direction with heads unbowed. No satisfaction was to be offered to the Toad on their part. They turned the corner at the top and I followed them silently. They reached the classroom I had told them to go to and hovered uncertainly outside. Susan gave a little gasp when it opened, seemingly of its own accord, but really by me.

I got behind it and whispered to them to hurry in while I shed the Cloak and shut the door again. I sent a locking spell at it, then conjured a couple of balls of light.

“Let me see,” I said.

They held out their hands reluctantly. Yep, both were a bleeding oozing mess.

“Dobby!” I called.

The usual popping sound immediately followed by cries of “great Master Harry Potter has called poor humble Dobby.” I quickly hushed him and told him the plan.

He apparated away and two minutes later was back with Colin who was only wearing a pair of sleep shorts but with his camera gear in hand. I cast a couple of warming charms at him and he grinned at me in thanks.

He got everything sorted quickly, then I released the door and sent them off in the direction of murtlap.

“Thanks Colin,” I said as we watched Ernie and Susan head out of the room. “Now, let’s get you back to your bed. Dobby?”

“On to it, great Master Harry Potter. Come now, Master Harry’s Creevey friend.” And with a pop they were gone, while I slipped back under the cloak and headed for my bed too.

There were a couple of dicey moments with Mrs. Norris sneaking around corners and I had to dodge into a disused classroom for a couple of minutes when Filch wandered past murmuring of manacles, but it wasn’t long before I was in front of the eagle. I was just reaching out to knock and get the riddle when the door silently swung open.

Malfoy was on the other side. “Sorted?” He asked quietly as he shut the door behind me.

“Yep. Colin will give us copies at lunchtime. He’s got a free period when we’re in the gym. He says discovered a way of embedding the date and time a photo was taken into the image.”

“Sounds useful,” and he led the way across the common room and up to our room.

I fell into bed feeling bone tired and completely forgot about clearing my mind.

I slid around a corner in the glassed over area where the female often sat in the afternoon with a cup of steaming liquid. No one was there at this time of night, so I was safe to attempt my experiment. Rearing up so that my head was above the level of the wooden platforms that humans use to eat from, I surveyed the room and hissed my satisfaction. She _had_ left her magic stick behind when my Master had called for her earlier and it was right where I could get at it easily.

I moved across to it and reached up with my tail. When I touched it, it gave off a shower of beautiful golden sparks and I could feel it adapting to me. When I felt it had become completely comfortable with me, I pointed it at the middle of my august wonderful person and said “_Bukalemun_.”

A shimmer ran down my length and back again. I looked back at myself and felt triumphant. I, the Queen of all Snakefolk, was now the most magical snake that had ever been. I could cast spells with a magic stick and I had myself invisible to human eyes. I was now the exact colour and pattern of that which I laid upon.

I felt a pressure in the aether and quickly let go of the stick, whipping my tail away from it. One of the creatures with the bulging eyes appeared. “Mimsy, where is my wand? Mimsy is not knowing Mistress. Well go and find it then, Mimsy. It’s not as if Mimsy has something to do, oh of course Mimsy is not busy. Mimsy never has enough work to be doing. No, Mistress, Mimsy is not sarcastic. How could she be? Mimsy doesn’t even know what sarcasm is. Mimsy, where is my wand? Mistress is so careless when Master Draco is not being here.”

While this muttered litany continued the creature poked into every corner of the room and I had some fast work to do to prevent it from finding me.

“Oh, there you is being. But why would Mistress’ wand be lying there? Something has been touching Mistress’ wand.”

It vanished with the magic stick and I went in search of my Master to show him what I had done.

He was in the suite that he had been given by the male and I slithered in.

“Look Massster at what I have done. I am ssso much more ussseful to you like thisss.”

“Nagini? I can hear you, but not sssee you.”

I chuckled deep in my throat and lifted my head to rest it on his knee.

He started, then rested his hand in my favourite spot. “And how have you done thisss, my lovely?”

I explained the lost magic stick and how wonderful I am. “The one with the bulging eyesss didn’t not even know I wasss there, Massster.”

“Yesss, very clever, my precsssiousss treasssure. Let usss think about how bessst to ussse thisss new talent.”

I curled up in front of the fire and fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bukalemun is Turkish for chameleon.


	23. The Incident of the Leech Testicles

Wednesday 10 September

Justin woke me and we repeated the previous morning’s run, except that we ran the other way around the track—just for fun. Following that, breakfast was an orderly affair with every house badge at its designated table and a self-satisfied gleam in the Toad’s eyes. [I must stop calling her that. Repeat to yourself ‘Professor Umbridge’, ‘Professor Umbridge’. It’s disrespectful to the wonderful character in Kenneth Graham’s book _The Wind in the Willows_.]

Once again, I’m ignoring Divination. It was as dire as ever, and at this point, it was only stubborn tenacity that kept me attending class at all.

Again, Stagnant was already in the Gym when we arrived. This time Justin joined me in making the student bows. The other two looked thoughtful at that, then looked at each other and nodded. They came to where we were standing and imitated us.

“Thank you, students. I will attempt to be worthy of the honour that you give me.

“Now, we’ll begin with a different warm-up today. Two minutes on the stationary bikes first. Now, some shuttle runs. Good, just shimmy up those ropes now and touch the beam.”

Justin managed that quite quickly and I had vague recollections of attempting such in Phys.Ed. class at school when I was ten, so I kind of managed to do it. Draco and Neville simply had no idea how to even start. They ended up dangling about a foot of the ground.

“Hmm, alright. Something to work on then.”

We then split into our pairs again with Malfoy and me starting with holding a dumbbell against our chests with both hands and then doing squats. We did those at the same time as each other then took turns doing lat pulldowns. Then something Stagnant called Romanian deadlifts. I wanted to ask why they were Romanian, but he was flicking between us and Justin and Neville who were doing the dumbbell squats by then.

He then had us doing split squats with a very light weight in the hand opposite the front leg. I had thought that our Quidditch skills would keep us balanced, but it was quite a struggle—especially when every time we let the back knee touch the ground we had to do another rep to replace that one. I think I must have done over 15 reps on the first side when it was supposed to be 10.

We finished with two rounds of a small circuit of side planks, pullovers, and lateral raises. For the last he gave us a pair of 1 kg weights, which I thought were incredibly light. But by the time I’d raised them 10 times out to the sides with my hands level with my shoulders, they weren’t as light any more.

While we were doing the circuits, Neville and Justin were alternating doing push-ups and carries.

We finished at the same time and went to make the farewell dojo bows.

“Alright then, go and rollout quads and hams. No sauna today. Shower in tepid water. I will see you on Friday.” And with that he apparated away.

There was no one in the changing room this time and a tepid shower didn’t encourage us to linger, so we were back in our room with plenty of time to do some reading towards our assignments.

We arrived in the Entrance Foyer at the same time as the Hufflepuffs. Justin went over to chat to his old Housemates as if it was the most ordinary thing in the world, while we three headed into the Great Hall for lunch. He joined us a few minutes later, just as our smoothies appeared. This time Justin had a green-tinged one, while I had peach and apricot. The others had berry without extra green.

“Hmm, Potter. My apologies, I get what you mean. It’s not quite, is it?”

I acknowledged his apology with a nod of acceptance, while feeling someone slip something into my bag. Malfoy was sitting opposite and didn’t look alarmed or worried, so I assumed it was Colin being discreet.

“Hands?”

Malfoy nodded back and Justin murmured, “yes, we can send Hedwig and Artemis later.”

Neville shook his head. “Too recognisable. It’d be better to use school instead. Little Miss La Rosado’d be less suspicious.”

I sniggered at his epithet, but could see the sense in what he’d said.

~~

When we arrived at Potions Snape was in a good mood. We could tell because he was being more sardonic than usual. Our Murtlap essays were returned and I was pleased to see that I had finally been awarded an E for something in this class.

My face must have shown something for he said, “is there a problem, Mr. Potter?”

“No sir, no problem at all.”

“Now, for your work on Friday morning. There were two Outstanding potions turned in, one that Exceeded Expectations, and three Acceptable. The two Outstanding were created by Messrs Malfoy, Potter, Finnegan, and Thomas. Two points each. The Exceeds was that created by Ms. Bulstrode and Miss Davis. One point each.

“I had originally planned that today you would be making the Starbright solution. However, Madam Pomphrey tells me that she has already run out of burn salve. It would appear that several of the First-Year students are attempting to emulate Mr. Finnegan’s methods of floating a feather by setting it alight. As a result, most of them have sustained multiple first-degree burns.

He tapped the blackboard with his wand.

“You have two options today. The first and safest is to follow the instructions on the board exactly. If you do so, you will produce a good salve and will be awarded a grade of Acceptable. The second option is to use the knowledge gained back in February, when we first made burn salves, to tweak the instructions to produce a better one. This has the potential to gain you an E or an O. However, if you mess it up, no matter how brilliant you are, you will be awarded a failing grade. The choice is yours. You will work independently but may discuss with your table classmate.”

The four of us looked at each other for a moment, then I said, “Justin, you go beside Malfoy and Neville and I will work on the bench behind you.”

I grabbed a bronze cauldron from the pile at the back of the room, then started making the base over a low steady flame.

“Neville, is there a magical equivalent of dock?”

He looked at me strangely before answering, “dock _is_ a magical plant.”

“Oh. I’m just used to it being a weed in Aunt Petunia’s garden. Also, remind me which herb is the one called the ‘holy herb’.”

“Vervain, but you can’t use that.”

“Why?”

“It causes miscarriages.”

“But that’s when it’s consumed. And anyway, how many first-year students are going to be pregnant?"

He looked dubious.

“It’s alright, the way I’m going to use it means that it won’t get into the system.”

I made a quick trip to the storeroom and grabbed two fresh dock leaves as well as some _Verbena officianalis_ flowers and leaves, along with a small block of propolis. When I returned, there were a couple of minutes left for the base to finish. I quickly minced the dock leaves and vervain, then shredded the propolis.

I scraped them all into the cauldron together, then set a bronze stirrer going to keep it all moving while it thickened slowly over twelve minutes. Then I returned to Snape’s method to finish off the salve.

While it went through a series of decreasing resting and simmering phases, I took some time to write a label including instructions for use.

“Mr. Potter,” it was Snape who was suddenly standing beside me.

“Yes, sir?”

“What is this?”

“A modified burn salve, sir.”

I sensed his eyebrows rise without my looking at him.

“There is a green stain on your chopping board, which suggests you’ve added leaves of something.”

“Yes sir. Dock and vervain. Yes, I know the latter is an abortifacient, but it should be safe to use externally on unbroken skin.”

He picked up the label and started reading it. I waited for the sarcastic tones that would inevitably appear just before he evanescoed the contents of my cauldron.

“When you have completed the salve, do not decant any of it. Rather leave it under an hermetic stasis in the cauldron.”

I nodded, “yes sir.”

Draco and Justin had heard the exchange and I could feel their surprise. I muttered, “later guys,” and started cleaning up my work area.

By then Snape was on the other side of the room peering into various cauldrons and we heard, “Ms Patil, just how would a combination of turmeric, coriander leaf, black cardamom and green chillies do anything other than flavour a stew?”

“Ouch,” said Neville and Malfoy at the same time. At my enquiring look Neville added, “that combination would add to the pain of the burn, not reduce it. Bet she left the seeds in the chilli as well.”

“Evanesco and a grade of Dreadful, Ms. Patil. No, don’t go all teary-eyed at me. You were warned that failed experiments would gain a failing grade.”

I suddenly caught sight of something flying through the air and cast a protego over the four of us. Snape whipped around to see it splash against my shield and drip slowly to the floor. The room went completely silent while he stalked over.

“Leech testicles. Who threw this?” There was menace in his voice, and no one said anything. He turned and went carefully around all the tables before pouncing. “Mr. Sneyd, look at me. _Finite imperium._”

Well, shit. He’d been under the imperius.

Neville said quietly, “he’s Edgecombe’s current boyfriend. Draco, can you somehow let Snape know that?”

Just then timers started going off around the room.

“All of you, turn off your flames and put your cauldrons in stasis. I will deal with them for you. Draco, please go into my office and floo Professor McGonagall to come down here immediately, then return. Mr. Finch-Fletchley and Mr. Longbottom go out to the corridor and meet the incoming third-year students. Keep them out until I give you the all clear. Mr. Potter remain. The rest of you, gather your belongings and depart via the other classroom.”

He waved his wand at the connecting door and it opened. As the last of the students left, Malfoy came back into the room. He was followed a short while later by Professor McGonagall.

“Minerva, Mr. Sneyd is under the power of some kind of imperius curse, but my _finite_ was insufficient to clear it.”

“Sir,” said Malfoy. “I understand that he is current boyfriend of Ms. Edgecombe.”

“Really Draco, the varying love lives of students holds little interest to me.”

“But on Saturday night, when you took her away from the Great Hall, she left behind a book called _Menstrual Blood: A Woman’s Weapon Most Potente_. We gave it to Professor Flitwick.”

“Where did she …? No matter, thank you Mr. Malfoy. That does give me some clue as to what to do here. Severus, we’ll need some exsanguinating hirudoids and a jar of coney blood.”

“Mr. Potter, go to the Seventh-Year cupboard in the storeroom. You should find some jars of blood in the O section. Bring one labelled _O. cuniculus_. Draco, see if you can find any medical leeches in either the Fifth-Year or Sixth-Year cupboards.”

There was a noise outside as the next class of students arrived, then Justin and Neville’s voices could be heard.

I found several bottles of blood, but none of them had the right label. That is, until I spotted one hiding at the back. In the meantime, Malfoy was muttering in low tones over at the Fifth-Year cupboard. Then he gave up and started ransacking the Sixth-Year one.

“Nothing there either,” he said. “He must have dissected the lot.”

We went back out to the classroom together.

“One jar only, Professor, and that was hiding at the back behind the Psittacidae crops.”

“And no leeches in either cupboard.”

“Draco, sorry to do this to you on your free period. Take the Third-Year students into the other classroom. Tell them that there’s been an accident in here and that I’ve asked you to cover the theory behind blood-replenishing potions with them.

“Yes Mr. Potter, you others may stay with him to provide moral support. We’ll take Mr. Sneyd to the Infirmary. I’m sure Madam Pomphrey will have some leeches with their genitalia intact.”

We went through the connecting door and shut it behind us. Then Draco went to the door out on to the corridor and called, “come this way, please.”

It took a little while, but they came in docilely enough.

“Now, there has been an accident in the previous class that Professor Snape is dealing with. He has asked me to cover with you the theory he was going to teach you today. So, please get out your note-taking equipment. You can guarantee that he will be testing you on this at your next class.”

He tapped the blackboard with his wand and the words ‘Blood Replenishing Potions’ appeared in neat lettering.

“Now, the first thing you need to understand is blood type.” And he went into an explanation of A, B, & O. Then he drew what he called a punnet square on the board and mentioned someone called Gregor Mendel—a squib monk from Silesia—who discovered this method by experimenting on pea plants, of all things.

By the time he had moved on to the Rhesus factor, he had the whole class hanging on his words as he made it interesting. He also seemed to anticipate their questions and gradually led them into understanding why some potion ingredients could be used, while others that would appear to be as useful wouldn’t work.

He finished by firing a series of questions at them, including asking why any cauldron with iron in its composition couldn’t be used to make a blood replenishing potion. Dennis Creevey answered that one by something about the effects on haemoglobin and ferritin. The approving nod that Malfoy gave him caused the lad to blush and duck his head.

“Alright, there are three minutes left before the bell goes for end of class. Professor Snape is likely to start the next class with a short revision test on this topic before he has you creating the general base for this class of potions. Please make sure that you are ready for the test and I recommend that you review the process for making bases. You’ll find that on pages 47 to 49 of _Magical Drafts and Potions_.

“Thank you for your attention and co-operation with the necessary change in this class. I will ask Professor Snape to award points to both houses. You may depart.”

We watched them pack up and leave.

“That was brilliant, Draco,” said Justin. “You helped me understand that stuff as much as you helped the kids.”

“Yeah, that definitely counts as your Potions tutorial for us,” said Neville. “I actually want to go and read that damn textbook myself to see what I missed when we were doing this back in Third Year.”

Malfoy went a little pink at that.

“Malfoy,” I said, “you’re a natural teacher. I do hope that teaching is somewhere on your life-plan. Your passion for this stuff was shining through and every one of those kids caught that and wanted to please you by knowing it.”

Snape came in just then and looked at the board. “Thank you, Draco. Mendelian theory as well?”

“Yes Uncle. I thought they might as well get the complete theory behind what they’re going to work on. Oh, I did tell them that I would ask you to award points to both houses for their attention and co-operation despite the odd circumstances.”

“Very well, ten points to Slytherin and ten points to Gryffindor. And an extra twenty to Ravenclaw for your assistance.

“Now, come back through into the main classroom. I wish to discuss Mr. Potter’s salve with you all.”

We looked at each other, then shrugged and followed him. There were several jars at most places—including, I was pleased to see, Neville’s. But the cauldron I had used was still there and still under my stasis spell.

“I am not sure what is going on here, but Mr. Longbottom you created an Acceptable salve—a little weaker than desirable, but nonetheless usable by the Infirmary for minor burns. Mr. Finch-Fletchley, although you followed the method on the board exactly, your salve has something extra about it that lifts your grade to an E.”

“Thank you, sir. But I didn’t follow exactly, I added four black beetle antennae at the same time as the doxy eggs.”

“Only four?”

“Yes sir, I didn’t want to overwhelm the salve.”

“Interesting that I could not detect what you had done. Draco’s innate understanding of the interactions of ingredients means that his tweaks resulted in a salve that will heal a burn almost instantly. However, because of the sopophorous leaf it can only be used on the extremities and not on any pulse points, lest it should cause memory loss.

“And then we come to this one.”

By then we were all standing around my workstation. He picked up the label I had written and passed it to Malfoy. His face began with its customary sneer, but quickly changed to shock and then went to a speculative look.

“Potter, if this really does work as you say, then …” and he broke off. “Uncle Severus?”

“Exactly. You would appear to have invented a completely new class of healing potion. What is even more interesting is that there are four magical signatures here. Not just yours, but those of your three classmates as well.”

“You mean our af …”

“Do not complete that word, Mr. Potter. Not after what we witnessed in your Chamber the other day.”

I gulped. “Sorry, sir.”

“Now, please describe exactly how you made this. Leave out no detail, no matter how small.”

“Umm. I made the base exactly the way it is on the board, except I used a bronze cauldron instead of pewter. Also, I elected to use a size three, because I wanted a broader evaporation surface.”

“Do you realise, Potter, that I was the only other student in the room who used a size three? Everyone else stuck to a size one,” said Malfoy. “I chose it for similar reasons to your own.”

Justin and Neville looked intrigued and I explained that when the surface is broader the evaporation rate can be kept the same at a lower heat point. “That way flavour can be more concentrated when cooking and I figured it would help intensify the strength of the base ingredients.”

“Continue.”

“I asked Neville about holy herb, as I couldn’t remember the proper name for it. He warned me that it is a known cause of miscarriages. I replied that First-Year students were unlikely to be pregnant and that it only causes them when ingested.

“I went to the storeroom and got two dock leaves and some vervain. While I was there, I realised that I would need something that would hold the salve against the skin and picked up a block of propolis. When I got back to the cauldron, the base had two minutes to go, so I minced the dock and vervain and grated the propolis. Once the timer for the base chimed, I scraped everything in and set a bronze stirrer going for exactly twelve minutes changing direction every two minutes. Then I picked up the instructions on the board at Step Six and carried on from there.”

“That explains quite a lot. Now, if you could lift your stasis charm, we can test your salve.”

I looked at him dumbly.

“Ah, Harry,” said Neville. “When you cast that shield charm, I think you reinforced the stasis charm at the same time.”

“Whatever you did, I am unable to break your charm without destroying the immediate area and I would rather not have a crater in my classroom.”

I nodded, then raised my wand and flicked it twice. Snape grabbed a dipper and scooped out a small amount and ran a green-flecked smear across a mark on the back of his left hand. The green flecks disappeared after a few moments and the salve went a honey-comb colour.

“The texture is smooth and the feel against my skin is calming.”

“It should go blue quite quickly, sir, because you used such a small amount.”

“Blue?” asked Malfoy.

“Yes, there’s flowers as well as leaves in there.”

“You minced them as well?”

I nodded. “If I got it right, exposure to atmospheric carbon dioxide should activate the colouration to bleed through. When it’s gone completely blue the other ingredients are no longer active.”

“Well, it is now blue,” said Snape gesturing at his hand. “And is now caking and crumbling off.” He brushed it off and inspected his hand. He looked up at me from under his dark brows. “That burn mark was five days old and I had neglected to do something about it. It is no long present in the area on which I used your salve.”

I sagged with relief until he continued.

“You will write this up as a journal paper and I will make sure it gets published. I will also assist with the patent application. That will ensure that no-one can claim it as their own and profit thereby.”

I groaned and, in response to his enquiring look, explained that we were already writing journal papers for Professor Sprout.

“Good, that means that you already have some knowledge of the process,” was all he said. “I will bottle up the rest of this and ensure that Madam Pomphrey understands how it is used. Off with you now. The dinner gong is about to go. Oh, and don’t worry about Mr. Sneyd when you don’t see him at dinner. He’s been taken to St. Mungo’s for treatment.”

We grabbed our gear and headed back to our room to get our Astronomy stuff.

“We’ll have to sort out the notes and photos on our way back from class this evening,” I said.

“Should be okay to do it between dinner and Astronomy, shouldn’t it? Class doesn’t start until eight tonight. No point earlier with sunset not until quarter to,” said Neville.

As we walked down to dinner I suddenly thought to ask, “Malfoy, what would the leech testicles have done to us or our potions if I hadn’t cast that protego?”

He grimaced. “It has a different effect depending on the pubertal stage of growth. On prepubescents, it acts like a cheering charm. Those in early puberty just feel good down there. In mid-puberty, like us, people get very randy and it may force orgasm. In late puberty and in adults sex-compulsion occurs and they must seek completion.”

“So, not a good idea then,” said Justin in his blandest tones.

“And depending on the amount used, the compulsion can last for some time. Most potions that use leech testicles are illegal and therefore widely used in certain parts of society.”

“Right, dinner then,” squeaked Neville.

~~

Eight o’clock saw the entire Fifth-Year class gathered on the sixth floor outside the staircase leading up the Astronomy Tower. We mostly stood in our friend groups rather than our houses. That way we could present a united front together. We’d heard she’d ignored the third and fourth years doing this the last two nights, but were sure that she wouldn’t leave us alone.

While Ron and Hermione talked at me and Neville rather than to each other, Justin was over with Susan, Ernie and Hopkirk and Malfoy was chatting to Zabini and Goyle while trying to ignore Parkinson. Crabbe just hovered uncertainly in their background.

Professor Sinistra came down the stairs with a vexed look on her face. “Oh, not you lot as well!” she exclaimed. “This is ridiculous. How am I supposed to teach you about the stars and their portents, if you can’t see them?”

There was no direct response to her other than a general muttered murmur that swelled across the group.

“Hem, hem.”

Deep breath. Here we go.

“Children, whatever are you doing milling around here?”

“They’re attending their Astronomy class, Dolores. Or, at least they wish to, but are prevented from proceeding further.”

“Prevented? Oh dear. Let us see if we can remove the block.” And she waved her wand at the stairwell, while giving a pronounced _finite_. The only thing that happened is that Professor Sinistra’s hair went grey instead of the lush chestnut it usually was.

“Now children you should be able to go to class.”

There was a general murmur of denial and negation.

“Dolores, the real problem is that it is beyond sunset.”

Umbridge looked genuinely puzzled. “But that is normally the time that one studies the stars, isn’t it dear?”

The look on Sinistra’s face at being called “dear” by the creature in pink was well worth the price of admission. “Yes, however there is an Educational Decree in force that bans students from going outside after sunset, dear. And the top of the Astronomy Tower is most definitely outside.”

Umbridge tittered, “oh, but my dear, that Decree does not apply to class time. Astonishing how anyone could think that it does.”

“No more astonishing than siblings from different houses wanting to talk to each other, love.”

The lemons that were being passed metaphorically between the two women were extremely sour that evening.

I felt like cheering Sinistra, but reined myself in. We all knew that one word from any of us would see that one in detention faster than a jarvey falling on a nest of wild gnomes.

“It is a great pity, class, that we are unable to go outside this evening as there is a comet due to pass through the constellation Musca this evening. We haven’t had a chance to discuss Musca yet. It is named for a fly—that is the annoying insect that commonly pesters. Oh well, it is what it is. Into the classroom, please.”

And she pointed at the classroom that she used on stormy nights when being on the Astronomy Tower was too dangerous.

We docilely went in and took seats, deliberately mixing up the houses and sitting in different friend groups. Professor Sinistra followed us in and neatly shut the door in Umbridge’s face. We all saw it happen and couldn’t help grinning. Dean and Seamus even gave her a thumbs up.

She started lecturing on the constellation Musca and the nebulae that can be seen within it. She then moved on to what the portent of a comet passing through Musca means to magic users.

“It does depend on the direction the comet takes. If it enters the end where Beta Musca is, then it has entered via the head of the fly. This signifies consumption. If it enters from Gamma Musca, then it has entered via the body. This signifies expulsion. If it enters from Alpha or Delta, then it has come in through the wings, Alpha on the left and Delta on the right. The approach from Delta indicates successful journeys, while that from Alpha journeys that have the potential to go very wrong if not managed properly.”

She paused to acknowledge Ron’s hand. “What direction did this comet come from?”

“Most unusually, for Musca, from behind. The only record we have of this occurring before is this same comet, which has a periodisation of 511 years and 5 days. It has been observed twice before, plunging right through the middle of the constellation. In two weeks’ time it will be unobservable again for 3 months. It will briefly reappear for three nights then not be seen again until 2507. It is postulated that the comet reaches apogee at this time and hence turns to make its journey away from us.

“Both of the times that we have records of previous sightings the world was in great turmoil, and then on it appearing a great wizard arose and set the world about its ears and restored the balance of magic. The most recent, in 1485, saw the end of the War of the Roses with the defeat of Richard III at the battle of Tewkesbury after the Wizard, known as ‘The Silent One’ appeared and enforced true peace on both the magical and muggle worlds.

“The year 974 was relatively peaceful by muggle standards. The border between the Scandinavian countries and Germany was firmed up that year through a series of battles, and there was a major earthquake in England. At the same time there was a shifting of the balance of power across the various caliphates around the Mediterranean. However, in the magical world hundreds of small cabals, conclaves and covens had formed and were involved in petty wars against one another. Magic was dying and multiple petty tyrants arose, each one claiming to be the true descendants of the Magical Lords of Antiquity. In truth, none of them were. At Samhain that year a great wizard appeared suddenly and, with the co-operation of three others from various countries and backgrounds, he formed the Wizards Council (the organisation that later became the International Confederation of Wizards) and the Congress for Inter-species Co-operation.”

There was a forest of hands up at this point. I knew that most of them were going to speculate on who the great wizard was. Way to put pressure on. Fortunately, she called on Hermione.

“Professor, I’m just wondering how we would have seen Musca tonight. I mean, it’s a southern constellation that can only be seen from 14° South, isn’t it?”

“Yes, that is ordinarily so—if you are using a standard telescope. However, the muggles have perfected something called a Hubble, which we can tap into. The appearance of a comet is of great interest to them as well as us, and at present it is pointed at Musca so that they can observe its behaviour also.”

The looks on people’s faces when they realised that she was praising something the muggles had done were varied.

“The reason we need to be on the Tower to observe is because its runic shielding allows some electrickery to take place. And, no, that is not me mispronouncing electricity.”

A laugh rose from the various muggle-raised students, and we were dismissed with the assignment of doing further research on the constellation Musca—eighteen inches.

As we left the room Hermione tried to get my attention, but I just tapped my wrist at her and headed for bed. There was no way I was going to let her speculate at me and I was tired anyway.


	24. A Nice Cup of Tea

Thursday 12 September

When Justin and I got back from our run, Charlotte was in the Common Room with a long roll of parchment looking worried.

“What’s wrong Ms. Trenery?” asked Justin.

“Oh. I’m trying to work out just how many students haven’t had health checks. It’s been happening for some years and Professor Flitwick didn’t know. This is a list of all students who don’t have a health check recorded against their name by year. Mr. Malfoy is on it from last year, but not this year, while Mr. Longbottom is the other way round. Yet, I know that they both gave Madam Pomphrey their certificates both years.”

“How far back does the list go?” I asked.

“That’s what’s worrying me. Professor Lupin is on here for four of his seven years.”

“What about Lily Evans?”

She paused to look. “No checks from 1971 onwards.”

“That was her second year. My mother,” I added by way of explanation. “And what about Amanda Gilbert?”

“1967 and 1968. Who was she?”

“One of Mrs. Weasley’s school friends. I know she was muggleborn.”

“Dumbledore became headmaster during the 1964/65 school year, when Dippet retired,” said Justin. “So, 1967 would fit. When was Pomphrey appointed?”

“Do you think she’s … Scrub that, silly question,” said Charlotte.

“No, it’s not a silly question. Either she’s heavily involved, or she’s confunded into believing she’s done the checks.”

“Or imperiused,” I muttered. I moved my arm then and caught a whiff. “Urghh. Sorry, but we really need to go have a shower before breakfast.”

“No problem. Thanks for your help.”

~~

Transfiguration proceeded more normally than Tuesday. A discussion on the theory of what we trying to do preceded further attempts at tea sets. Malfoy and I carefully sat on opposite sides of the table so that we couldn’t accidentally touch. Neville was the first to get the transfiguration done in our group this time.

“How did you do it this time?” Justin asked him.

“I took the image of the blue ball of magic that you talked about last week and visualised that changing shape, then applied it to the block of wood.”

“Oh,” said Malfoy before concentrating for a moment. He then swished his wand and the block of wood vanished from view leaving an elegant silver teapot with chasing over the sides. Beside it was a pair of china cups and saucers, a sugar bowl, and a small jug.

“Alright then,” I said. “Challenge on.” And a moment later a small round black-lacquered tray sat on the desk before me with a set of four small bowls and a cast iron teapot on it. The teapot sat on a trivet and was black and the handle curved up above it. The bowls were in delicate bone china and had Chinese characters on the sides.

Justin looked at us with a wry grin, shook his head and then did his, producing a solid-looking tea set. “Joost cum oop fr’ Zummerzet. Doan’t want none of thy fancy stuff.”

McGonagall came past at that moment. “Well,” she said, “this is certainly an eclectic mix. And all of it is very proficient. Take a grade of E each. Now, the next thing to do is to transfigure to include hot water in the pot.”

I smiled, reached out to my teapot and said, “I don’t know if you like peppermint green tea, Professor, but I can offer you a cup.” And I poured one there and then.

She actually spluttered for a moment, then firmed up. “But, Mr. Potter, your teapot wasn’t steaming and yet what you’ve just poured is hot.”

“Yeah, I masked the steam so that it wouldn’t look like I was showing off.”

“In that case, your grade is upgraded to an O.”

Neville and Malfoy both reached out with their wands and tapped their teapots. Steam immediately curled up from the spout. Neville then poured a perfect cup of Indian black tea.

Malfoy smiled and asked, “do you have a preference, Professor? Lapsang souchong, Earl Grey, or Orange Pekoe?”

“Earl Grey, with a twist of lemon.”

“Of course, Professor.” He concentrated for a moment and lifted the pot to pour a cup of tea. I could smell the bergamot from where I was sitting, and a thin slice of lemon appeared on side of the saucer.

“I always find it best if people are able to choose the amount of lemon to add,” he said in his most courtly tones.

We turned to Justin with raised eyebrows, as if to say “and?”

He smiled easily and reversed his transfiguration for a moment. Then with a flick, his tea set returned with, this time, a menu clip thingy that held a slip of paper. He invited each of us to name our preference from the list on the menu and he poured—from the same pot—without appearing to do any more magic, the particular tea we requested.

“Yes, very well. An Outstanding for each of you, and five points Mr. Finch-Fletchley for a superb use of magic without grandstanding.”

She whirled away to the other tables to see how they were going. Blaise’ coffeepot had made a reappearance, but when he conjured hot water into it, it melted—much to his mirth and Parkinson’s dismay when she had to put up a hasty shield.

Ron managed to get a pair of cups, but they looked like they had been thrown by a very inexpert potter—they had lumps and saggy bits in various places. I remembered the time when Aunt Petunia had gone to evening classes in pottery. It had not gone well, and it was a glorious moment when Dudley and Piers had accidently knocked her vase over and, instead of shattering, it had crumpled.

Goyle was still only managing to get his piece of wood to turn into a block of metal, but it wouldn’t get any further. I whispered to Malfoy, “how do you usually help him with this stuff?”

“Talk him through in little bits.”

“Will he accept me trying to help?”

“He might. No harm in trying.”

I got to my feet and asked McGonagall’s permission to try to help him.

“Greg,” I said quietly. “Can I give you a hand?”

He looked startled to be addressed but said, “reckon I’m desperate enough to take help from anyone.”

“Alright, undo your metal back to wood. Now, tell me about your favourite cup.”

“It’s over at my Nan’s. She’s got a nice set of Royal Doulton and if I’ve been good while visiting, she let’s me get it out of the china cabinet and set it out on the table in the parlour.”

“What colour is it?”

“It’s white with violets on it.”

“Good. Now, don’t think of the whole set at once, but concentrate on just one piece.”

“A cup?”

“Sure. Think about what size it is. Think about where the handle is attached. Think about the colour of the violets. Now, take a little bit of your magic and put it into the wood.” I checked with Justin, who nodded. “Good, now use that little bit of magic to make the cup just like you remember it.”

His face twisted for a moment, then the block of wood gradually transformed in front of us into a single teacup of delicate bone china with a gold rim and a dark purple border just below it with violets and leaves spread around the outside and one inside the cup opposite the drinker. The handle was a fine structure with gold tracing.

“That’s perfect, Greg.”

“Look, Vin …” his face crumpled for a moment when he realised again that Crabbe wasn’t there. I wondered whether it was disloyal to suspect that the Hat had made a mistake in separating the two of them this year. I covered it over by beckoning Malfoy over.

“Greg, may I pick it up?”

He shrugged an okay and Malfoy carefully picked it up and turned it around looking at the detail. Then he laughed.

“What?” Goyle had a panicked look.

“Oh, don’t worry. You’ve done such an accurate job that you’ve even put the Royal Doulton mark on the bottom of the cup. Honestly, I can’t tell the difference between this and one of your Nan’s cups.”

He called Professor McGonagall over as if she hadn’t been carefully watching us.

“This is very good work, Mr. Goyle. I can’t give you a grade yet because you need to be able to come up with the other pieces, but this is a beautiful example of transfiguration and an excellent start. Two points to Slytherin.”

“But it was Potter’s work really.”

“No, it wasn’t my work. I just helped you imagine it. However, you did all the work and you deserve the points.”

He sat up a bit straighter at that.

“How much more time have we got Professor?”

“Another twenty minutes, Mr. Potter.”

“Thank you, Professor. Alright Greg, can you undo that? We need to work on getting a cup and saucer together.”

Bit by bit, over the rest of the class, I got him to undo and redo his transfiguration. By the end, he had two cups and saucers and a sugar bowl with a silver spoon in it and two teaspoons, one on each saucer.

“Do you think you can keep on with this now by yourself?” I asked him. “I mean now that you know what to do.”

“Yeah, I think I can. Can I show Vince this when we catch up later?”

“Of course you can. It will help you remember how to do it. Now don’t forget to take your magic back out of the block of wood. You don’t want to leave your magic lying around for other people to steal.”

He nodded with a serious look on his face, then I could see him screwing himself up to something and he suddenly blurted out, “thank you very much, Potter. Appreciate. Very kind.”

I patted his shoulder and said, “no problem. I enjoyed helping you.”

We extracted ourselves from our classmates who were heading down to Care of Magical Creatures or Muggle Studies and headed off to see Flitwick.

“Well Potter, I do hope that teaching is somewhere on your life-plan,” snarked Malfoy in a direct quote from me yesterday. Then in a softer tone, “the way you guided Goyle through that was just what he needed. His visualisation skills are huge, but he always struggles with the translation into intent and outcome.”

“Can he draw?”

“That’s more Crabbe’s thing. No, he’s a sculptor.”

“Ah, so that’s why he can do 3-D so easily.” I had a thought. “Justin, where do your artistic talents lie?”

“Dioramas were what I was into before I came to Hogwarts. Haven’t really had time since to do any.”

“Hmm. I wonder if Professor McGonagall has some artistic talent. I don’t think I do.”

We reached Flitwick’s office and he led us silently to the same classroom as we were in on Monday.

“Now, I heard you discussing artistic talent,” he squeaked. “I suspect, Mr. Potter, that Professor McGonagall’s is very similar to yours.”

I was puzzled, “but I can’t draw or …”

“Maybe not, but you are an observer and have a high EQ.”

“EQ?” we asked in chorus.

“Yes. Just last year a book called _Emotional Intelligence—Why it can matter more than IQ_ was published by muggle author Daniel Goleman. It’s written as a popular version of the more esoteric scientific papers on the subject. But basically, the higher the EQ, the more empathic one is. A high degree of empathy has all sorts of effects—particularly in magic and the area of intent.

“Each of the four of you detects magic in a different way. While Mr. Finch-Fletchley sees magic, Mr. Malfoy instinctively knows whether magic is there or not. Similarly, Mr. Longbottom senses magic through his touch and you feel your way through magic.”

Our doubts must have shown as he reminded us of our lesson last week when we did the visualisation of a storm. Justin had been inside watching the storm happen and Neville was standing on the ground feeling it through his feet, while Draco used the storm to create a bubble to be inside and I just flew through it letting it batter and drench me.

“The affinity the four of you have is partly because you are so different in the way you approach magic, and indeed life in general. You need each other because of your complementary approaches and the way you each affect the world around you.”

He then asked us to prepare the classroom for today’s lesson.

“Now, before we move onto the next challenge, tell me about your Harlequin research.”

Justin started with a brief description of Harlequin’s role in the Commedia del’Arte and compared it with Pierrot’s. Malfoy took over from him and talked about how Harlequin had later become confused with Pierrot in both the muggle and magical worlds. I then explained that Harlequin is the embodiment of wild magic and talked about how the motley represented that. Neville finished off with describing how Columbine represents the stabilising influence of having others around us.

“Excellent, excellent. So, what happened on Monday?”

I piped up. “When only one of us was doing the distribution, the magic was wild and so the motley took over, but when all four of us worked together with a multiple of three, we were able to control it.”

“How did you come to make the link between twelve and control of the effect?” he asked.

I grinned. “A book called _Transformative Power: Dragonet to Wyvern_.”

He blinked. “How ever did you find that in your Harlequin research?”

“Madam Pince. I asked her for some advice, and she sent me to five books. That was one of them.”

“While Nettlesome isn’t a Lockhart, he’s not always the most accurate at reporting facts—particularly when they get in the way of one of his theories. He also sees himself as a clever rogue.”

“And has delusions of grandeur. Or at least based on that cover, he does.”

Flitwick grinned, but only said, “and now onto today’s lesson. The same activity as Monday with the difference that on the bottom of each box there is a colour square that designates the colour that should be in it. If you put the wrong colour ball into a box, it will reject it. A rejected ball will then come over to this net, so you can’t use the same ball to test multiple boxes. You will be working one at a time initially, but you can collaboratively discuss your approach to this.”

We talked briefly, then Neville took off his shoes and socks and stood in the middle of the room and sent out a tendril of magic to each box. As each one reported back to him, he added a duplicate of the colour square to the side of the box.

Flitwick laughed. “Well, that’s certainly not a solution I had anticipated, but well done.” He flicked his wand and they all returned to the previous state and Neville resumed his footwear.

We talked some more, and this time Justin stood in the middle. He called out a single ball of each colour and sent them to hover over the boxes. Then concentrating on them one at a time, he used his magic sight to see if the box liked the ball or not. Suddenly, they all rejected and went to Flitwick’s net.

“Alright, so the rejection/acceptance magic extends in a bubble about 10 centimetres out from the top of the boxes,” he said.

“What about using an attractant spell, like Neville did?” I asked.

“Okay, but be careful not to overpower it.”

I took my place in the middle, then sent out a swirl of magic across the floor to the circle of boxes. I then pulled a green ball out of the net and dropped it to the floor. It sat there for a few seconds then started rolling away from me, gradually gathering speed as it got closer to one of the boxes. Then, instead of going up the side of the box and into it, it knocked the box over and attached itself to the green coloured square on the bottom of the box.

“Oh, that wasn’t quite what I meant.”

The others just laughed, and I pulled my magic back in causing the green ball to roll back towards me. I picked it up and righted the box. “At least we know which one is the green box.”

And I used Malfoy’s technique of pulling out the green balls and streaming them over to their box.

After some more brain-storming, Malfoy went in to the middle and concentrated for a moment. The balls all changed into multi-coloured and then he sent them two at a time to each of the containers. But as they fell into the containers, their colours reverted and only a few were accepted with the rest going to the rejection net.

“Now, that one I had anticipated. You’ve also now got an additional problem, in that you don’t know what the original colour of the balls was.”

“Finite,” said Draco, but the balls all stayed multi-coloured. We had another quick discussion, then Neville went back barefoot again and touched the net with his left hand while reaching out above and behind his head with his right. He closed his eyes briefly, then sang a single note using an “aa” sound. His pitch stayed true, then there was a popping sound and all the balls in the net reverted to single colours.

We knew one of the boxes was for yellow balls, as Malfoy had got one of those successfully in a box, so Neville moved a yellow ball across to it and it was accepted. He then streamed all the yellow balls to that box and the white to their box.

“Okay, so how do we use the Harlequin effect to move the rest? It’s the only thing we haven’t tried yet.”

“Not quite,” said Malfoy. “When Longbottom sang then, it made me wonder about using colour resonance.”

“But the frequencies are very close together on the spectrum, and the colours aren’t pure. However, no harm in trying,” I said and went into the middle. I put up a “cone of silence” around me, one of the empty boxes and the net. I then reached out to the bottom of the box and felt with my magic for something that was different to the rest of the box. When I found it, I pulled at it for a moment—kind of like it was a tuning fork and felt for the vibrations. I then pinged at the different coloured balls. The blue and the purple balls were the closest in feel. I pinged the box again, then the balls.

“I think that box is blue,” I said after poking my head out through the silence. “But it could be purple. What do you reckon?”

“Try one of each,” said Justin, “and then we’ll know.”

I passed a blue ball across to it and it took it, so I moved all the blue balls from the net to the box.

“I think I was just lucky there, because the green on the other side of the spectrum had already gone, so it only left two possibilities. The black ball gave a very confused signal.”

“So, back to Harlequin,” said Neville. “What about using the cloud that covers the midnight sun?”

“Hmm, yeah, but combine it with the beacon of Columbine’s pure love,” said Malfoy.

“How do we do that?”

“Put a blindfold on me and guide me into the middle. Now, turn me a few times so that I don’t know where anything is.”

He was braver than I was. I hate the disorientation of darkness—probably because of that damn cupboard. I felt him reaching out with his magic to find the net, then he whistled the first phrase of _Una furtiva lagrima_. The net turned over causing all the balls to fall from it, then they flew of their own accord into the remaining boxes with not one being rejected.

“Oh, bravo,” applauded Flitwick. “In fact, _bravissimo_!”

“What made you choose that piece of music, Draco?” asked Justin curiously.

“Because it represents what Nemorino believes is true love in Adina’s heart, as a result of him taking a fake love potion. Muggle opera is full of magic, if we only look in the right places.”

“But how did it work?” that was me.

“Well, we used the cloud that covers the midnight sun with the blindfold, right?” I nodded. “So, when I used Nemorino’s aria, I then set up Columbine’s pure love. By doing that, I had harnessed Harlequin’s wild magic which did the rest.”

“Look,” said Neville. “Wild magic is unpredictable, right? Which is why the balls kept changing colour on Monday. But if it’s channelled through a wand or some other lens it can be managed.”

“So, does that imply that all magic is wild and it’s only the fact that wixen are educated at places like this that there is any history of control?”

“That is an excellent question, and a good place to stop for today. You will research the answers to that and present them to me at our session in a week’s time. In the meantime, please continue to keep your affinity quiet and don’t act on it outside of sessions with me—if you can avoid it. I’m aware of Tuesday’s little problem in Transfiguration. Fortunately, it was just the two of you. I don’t like to think about what could have happened if all four of you had simul-cast.”


	25. A Magician on the Cunard Line

As we headed back to Ravenclaw Tower, we passed an alcove. We suddenly all stopped as if we’d been caught by something.

“There’s a level six notice-me-not on that alcove,” said Justin. “Why?”

“Don’t know, but there’s something badly wrong. I can feel sadness rolling out of there,” was my reply as I pulled out my wand and headed in with Neville at my side.

“Bloody Gryffindors,” muttered Malfoy as he followed us in.

We found Andrew Tenggara sitting folded up as he had been bound at the back of the alcove. I reached out a hand to touch him and he shuffled quickly sideways away from me.

“Hey, Andrew, it’s okay. It’s just us, Harry and Neville. What’s happened?”

He looked up at us for a moment, then quickly put his head down again. “Can’t. Don’t touch me.”

“Andrew? Where’s your wand?”

“Taken away. Said I shouldn’t have one.”

“Who?”

“Can’t say.”

“What class should you be in Andrew?”

“Potions.”

I turned to the others, “our room?” They nodded. “Anaï.”

“Yaas, Mr. Potter.”

“I’m very sorry to be calling you away from your duties, but we’ve just found Mr. Tenggara in this alcove with a level six hiding spell on it.”

“He cannot be casting that,” came his quick reply. “He is being too young and not-experienced.”

“I know. Could you please help us by taking him to our room so that we can help him? Professor Flitwick is teaching right now, so we can’t get him just yet.”

“Does you all be agreeing to have this young one in your room?”

The other three all said “yes” without any hesitation.

“Then Anaï be doing this for you. Anaï will be coming back here to break nasty enchantments with Maaster Flittywick. They is being layered, so cannot be telling you what they is all being.”

A click of his fingers and the five of us found ourselves in our room. Tenggara then burst into tears and allowed me to hug him.

I held him until his sobs died down, then drew him back a bit. “Can you tell us more now?”

He opened his mouth, but then shook his head. “Still can’t.”

“Malfoy, can you please write notes to Professor Snape and Professor Flitwick and get Dobby to deliver them silently?”

He nodded and hastened to his desk while I took Tenggara over to the small sitting area we had set up where the fifth bed would have been. I put up a low-grade noise-cancelling spell just to reduce things a bit, so only distantly heard Dobby come in and leave again.

“Would you like something to drink, Andrew?”

“Green tea?”

“Of course. Plain or peppermint?”

“Plain, please.”

I silently thanked McGonagall for her recent classes and transfigured a spare cushion into an Indonesian version of the tea set I had done that morning and poured us both a cup of tea. He reached out to pick up one of the cups, but his hands were shaking a lot, so I picked it up and put in his hands for him, then nudged him to sit back on the chair.

He took a sip, looked startled for a moment, then burst into tears again.

“What’s wrong, Andrew?”

“Nothing,” he got out. “The flavour just reminds me of my family. I miss them so much. They’re mostly muggles, but …” He took a deep breath and sipped at his tea again. “My mother was so proud when my letter came. It meant that I would be following in my dad’s footsteps. I wasn’t sure we’d be able to afford the fees, but she managed to get me a scholarship from the Indonesian government and she spent most of her savings to get me my wand, and now …” Another sip. “One of my older brothers got a letter about ten years ago, but couldn’t come—it was too far away and too expensive. So, he trained himself and works as a magician on a cruise ship. He sends money home when he can so that my sisters can be educated. In my village we don’t usually educate girls, because …”

“It’s okay, I know why,” I said.

He was about to carry on when I heard a disturbance in the room. Looking up I saw that both Professors had arrived.

I laid a hand on his arm, “Professor Snape and Flitwick are here. They’re going to see if they can break the enchantments that are on you. Stay here for a moment, while we explain how we found you.”

“Could I have another cup?”

“Of course.”

I poured it for him, then left him behind the noise-reduction spell and joined the others who were explaining what happened.

As Snape went over to him, he noticed the noise-reduction charm and nodded approvingly at me. [The world was tipping on its axis, Snape openly approved of something I had done.] He waved his wand a couple of times, then caught a piece of parchment that appeared. His face became stony as he read it and came back across to where we were standing.

“Read that Filius. Someone has some answering to do.”

“Dear me,” Flitwick said as he quickly read it. “Anaï.”

Anaï appeared and was beginning the customary house-elf greeting.

“No time for that. Bring me Mr. Tenggara’s student files.”

He was back quite quickly and handed Flitwick a single thin manilla folder.

“Thaat does be everything there is Maaster Flittywick.”

Flitwick looked puzzled and opened the folder. There were only three sheets in it. “Severus, there’s nothing here. Or rather, just his acceptance letter, last year’s health check and last year’s academic results.”

“Where is he from?”

“A small village in Aceh Province, from what I gathered,” I said.

Snape groaned. “How on earth are we going to break that compulsion charm without the information or blood that we need?”

It was Neville who responded first. “His magic’s been bound?” he said in horrified tones. “But, he’s only twelve. That could kill him.”

“Exactly, Mr. Longbottom.”

I went over to the boy. “Andrew, what’s the name of the ship your brother is working on?”

“The _Royal Viking Sun_. It’s a Cunard.”

“Do you happen to know which route she’s plying at the moment?”

“London to various ports in the States, I think.”

“Thanks, back in a moment.”

I reported what I had learnt. “As it happens, I’m a significant shareholder in Cunard, thanks to Griphook. So, if I want one of their staff to come and see me immediately, there will be no objection.”

“But, Harry, how will you do that?” asked Justin.

“Magic,” was my only reply, but with a broad grin. “Dobby!”

“Yes, great and wonderful Master Harry Potter?”

“I need you to find out the schedule for the cruise ship _Royal Viking Sun_ and exactly where she is right now.”

“Oh, that do be easy, Master Harry Potter.” He clicked his fingers and a book appeared in his hand with small popping sound. He flipped through the book, “July, Augusty, Settetembre. Seven, ten, twelve. Here we is, Master Harry Potter.” And he gave me the book open at the right page.

“She’s about to dock at Southampton.” I checked the time. “In 37 minutes to be precise. Who can we rely on to meet Andrew’s brother and bring him here? They must be able to pass, which knocks out all of the Order and most aurors that I’ve met.”

“How will he know to disembark?” asked Snape.

“The Directors of the Line will tell him to. But I need to know who he’s going to meet.”

“Me.”

“It’s as serious as that, sir?”

“Yes, yes, it is.”

“Very well.” I pulled a small button out of a pocket in the lid of my trunk. “Dobby, take me down to the Hippogriff paddock.”

A moment later I was bowing to a stately male hippogriff. He bowed back after a moment.

“May I ride you?”

He considered it, then inclined his head briefly. I jumped up onto his back.

“Please take me over the centre of the Black Lake at about 300 metres and hover there.”

Once we were there, I activated the button. “Good morning, please put me through to the Head Office of the Cunard Line. Good morning, ma’am, is Director Stanley available? Might I speak to him? Thank you so much.

“Director, this is the Chair of Potter Holdings. I believe that one of your employees is a magician on board the _Royal Viking Sun_. I have heard much about him and would appreciate the opportunity to meet him in person. I understand that the ship is about to dock here in England.

“Yes, I can have him met by one of our Staff. A week’s leave? Oh, I think that would suit very well indeed. The person who will meet him is Severus Snape. Thank you so much, Director. Farewell.”

Once I’d deactivated the button, I requested the hippogriff to return to his paddock where Dobby was waiting for me with a freshly killed rabbit. I got off and made the appropriate bow of thanks and then tossed the rabbit to him.

“Right then. Back to the room, Dobby.”

“Just what were you doing, Potter, on that hippogriff?”

“It’s the only spot I know of in the immediate area where muggle telecommunications work. As it was the line was a bit dodgy as it was via satellite. However, I’ve organised that Mr. Tenggara, otherwise known as The Wondrous Wizard of the Seas [pause for derisive snorts], will have a week’s leave starting today. He is expecting to be met by a Severus Snape.”

“But why the hippogriff?”

“Two reasons, if I went up on a broom to that height, I would have to concentrate on flying rather than making the phone call. The hippogriff did the flying. And, his signature masked mine when I went through the dome—it’s at its lowest over the Black Lake—that way, anyone monitoring the dome would only notice a creature and not a wizard.”

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. “You mean you went outside the wards? The wards that are in place and were strengthened further over the summer for your protection. You just blithely flew outside them?”

“Yeah well, given my experience so far of protective wards not preventing attacks in Godric’s Hollow, Surrey and here at school, I don’t hold a lot of faith in them.”

The bell for Lunch sounded at that moment and Flitwick and Anaï appeared as well. I hadn’t realised they were missing.

“A quick summary of what we have just dismantled on that alcove,” he said. “The level six notice-me-not that you gentlemen picked up was layered with a level 5 avoidance charm and a level 7 compulsion charm. Then over the back of the alcove was a distrust charm that I have never taught even an apprentice. It was imbued with blood. It is fortunate that both Anaï and I have natural immunities to magic based on coney blood.”

“Professor, may we have lunch in the Common Room with Andrew and his roommates? Until the charms on Andrew are broken, I don’t think it would be safe for him to be out in full view of the general student population.”

“Very well, but this is not to be repeated often, if at all.”

“Thank you, sir.” I went across to Andrew and took down the noise reduction spell. “Andrew, come down to the Common Room with us for some lunch. The others will be waiting for you and I’ll explain to them some of what happened.” He got a panicked look in his face. “Only as much as they need to know to look after you. Gentlemen?”

And the four of us took Tenggara with us and went to the Common Room where we were met by the other five lads, who rushed over to him all trying to hug or at least touch him.

Justin and Malfoy set about quelling their voluble questions and together we got the ten of us sitting at the table in the back corner. Lunch appeared on the table. A choice between Tom Yum or Tomato soup with fresh bread rolls. While we ate, I briefly explained that someone unknown at present had attacked Tenggara and had hidden him. We just happened to find him and now Professors Flitwick and Snape were working to help break the charms that had bound his magic.

“Whoever did it, also stole his wand away from him.”

de Vries gasped at that, “but that is cruel. How can he learn to control his magic without a focus?”

“Isn’t wandless magic a thing, though?” asked Arnold Samuel.

“Yes,” said Neville. “But the present thinking is that it’s best to learn with a wand first, so that you learn what control feels like. Then you can learn how to do wandless.”

“Now, what’s your timetable this afternoon?”

“Double Defence and then free ’cos we’ve got Astronomy this evening,” said Buggins.

“Not that we gunna see much o’ the sky as that we can’t go outside after dark,” grinned Tyrone Jordan. “I hear she got proper upset with youse all las’ night.”

“Yes. However, Professor Sinistra is well able to deal with her should she appear again tonight. However, do please try to avoid getting a detention with her,” said Justin. “It’s fortunate that you won’t need your wand for Defence—given her methods of teaching.”

“Can’t I just …?”

“No. You cannot give her any excuse. The only exception to attending her class is because you’re in the Infirmary, under Madam Pomphrey’s care.”

He sighed, then said, “okay, I suppose.”

“Now, we’ve got double Herbology followed by History and then Runes. So, I’m going organise with someone to escort you from Defence back here,” I said. “Yes, guys, I know you’d do anything to defend Andrew, but you’re not strong enough against this level of magic.”

I scribbled a note, then opened the window to let Hedwig in. “Please take this to Fred or George, whichever one you find first.”

“Now, let’s get you lads across to the Defence classroom. Professor Sprout won’t mind if we’re a little late,” said Neville.

And with that, we walked across with them chatting about their current Transfiguration project.


	26. Stinksap

We were only five minutes late to Herbology and Neville went across to where Professor Sprout was standing looking a little miffed. I looked around and realised that some of the Gryffindors were also missing. She nodded her acceptance at Neville’s quick explanation and marked us off on the roll.

“Very well, we will assume that Ms. Brocklehurst and Mr. Sedares are not joining us this afternoon. Glasshouse Two, please.”

We trooped over and followed her in.

“Today we will be studying Stinksap in detail. You won’t be exposed to the odour—if you take the correct precautions. However, I expect you to know what those are without me telling you. You will be working in pairs, there are enough plants in the pots on the tables for you to have two plants for each pair. Get started.”

Suddenly there was a babel around us as everyone in the class wanted to pair with Neville. He simply turned from them, took Malfoy’s elbow and walked with him across to a table on the far right. Justin and I quickly followed and took the place beside them, leaving the others to assort themselves at the other spaces. Dean and Seamus ended up beside us.

I could hear mutters from Neville, “given none of them have ever wanted to partner with me in any class before, it’s a bit bloody rich.”

Malfoy was well out of his depth, trying to work out how to calm Neville down. In the end he just resorted to patting him on the shoulder. In the meanwhile, Justin and I were desperately trying not to catch each other’s eye for fear we would break out laughing.

“Let’s get on with looking at these Stinksap plants,” I said in the end. “Hang on, they’re completely different. Neville,” I bleated.

“What?”

“These plants aren’t the same as each other. How can they both be Stinksap plants? It’s not as if they could even be adult and juvenile versions of each other.”

“Stinksap doesn’t just come from a single plant. Don’t you remember the train trip last year with my _Mimbulus mimbletonia_? That had stinksap, but neither of these are that either.”

“Oh,” said Justin and Malfoy at the same time. By then we had all pulled out nose plugs and applied them, along with our herbology goggles. Those had been on the equipment list last year. Fortunately, they were automatically resizing ones and went over my glasses. When we saw Neville pulling on a smock over his robes, we hastened to do the same.

We started with a squat plant that had tiny cream flowers cascading in racemes from the terminal branchlets. As we watched a fly came buzzing excitedly in and landed above it to rub its front legs together. Then it strutted down the bunch of flowers, pausing every now and then find the heady aroma. It reached the middle and then suddenly it was sucked into a slightly larger flower and a small puff of gas was emitted.

“Write that down,” I muttered. “Carnivorous plant, or at least insectivorous.”

Another fly arrived and landed at the distal end of a different raceme and started to wander around, then it must have touched something as there was a small ripple and the fly’s body was moved across the flowers before it too was sucked in followed by the puff of gas.

“Alright, so the stink is an insect attractant, the insect is then consumed.”

“Yeah, but it’s supposed to be stinksap. How does that fit with the flower nectar?”

“Maybe the sap is held under some kind of compression and released in gaseous form when there’s a trigger of some kind.”

Malfoy heard me say that, and turned to ask, “Potter, do you mean like a retort when we’re making a potion in gas form?”

“Kind of, I think. Although, the gas in a retort is not usually under compression, is it? Otherwise the glass would break.”

“Oh, but Charles’s gas law …”

“Is about the volume of gas against temperature at a constant pressure,” said Justin. “Neville, do plants have the ability to increase internal heat?”

“Some of the Araceae have floral thermogenesis properties, but most other plants don’t. It’s too expensive and would use up their reserves.”

In the meantime, another three flies had been consumed by our plant in similar fashion to the first two. Then I realised something.

“Hang on. Each fly has been on a different raceme. That can’t be random. If it was, then there would be some double-ups. Maybe the puff of gas neutralises the attractant. I know you can kill a Venus flytrap if you overfeed it with flies. If the attracting smell gets neutralised while the plant digests its prey, then it won’t get overwhelmed.”

“That’s good thinking, Harry,” said Neville. “Let me think how to check that out while you study the other plant.”

The other plant was about one and half metres tall with a canopy of branches and leaves that spread out from the top to about metre all round. Up the trunk were some growths that on closer inspection turned out to be pods on a stout short stalk. Near the top, there were some flowers that were pink on the outer edges and shaded to deep crimson at the centre. The petals seemed to be fused along the edges with the outer edge curved outwards, that suggested that the pod things were the fruit.

“What’s the bet that those are reservoirs of stinksap?” said Justin.

“No takers on that bet,” was my quick response. “And if I can avoid it, I’m not even touching one of them.”

Just then a shout came from Dean, “watch out, that one’s about to burst.” There was a wet sounding explosion and we turned in time to see the floor in front of their table get splattered in a purple muck that had seeds in it.”

“How did that come to happen?” asked Seamus. “I didna’ touch it.”

“It was probably fully ripe and ready to go. I think when they get to a certain temperature after ripening, they go off, as it were,” said Justin. While he was speaking there was a yell of disgust from further up the glasshouse. The Patil twin was covered in purple gunge and Tracy Davis was holding her nose.

I heard Neville mutter, “now, why would I want to partner in here with people as stupid as that? I mean, no nose guard and no smock. She’s going to need to persuade Anaï to let a house-elf clean those robes or throw them away. Otherwise, the smell of garlic-flavoured rotten socks mixed with the fine bouquet of sewage and cooking tripe will be with her for ever. As it is, she’ll need to bathe for at least ninety minutes in sandalwood-scented water at 39 degrees. Silly bint.”

He was obviously still pretty annoyed about being besieged at the beginning of class.

“Harry, I think that pod’s about to burst,” said Justin pointing at one that seemed to be swelling up.

I rapidly cast a stasis charm on it, rotated the pot the plant was in, then conjured a large glass jar. “Ready?”

We held the jar together where we thought the pod’s contents would go, then I lifted the stasis. About five seconds later it went off and we caught most of the purple stuff and the seeds. The bits we missed sailed over the top of the jar and went between us onto the floor of the glasshouse. We put the jar down and Justin evanescoed the stuff we’d missed.

“Harry?” it was Dean. “Could you do us a jar? We’re no good at glass stuff.”

“Sure. I learnt how do it from Hermione. She’s the best at conjuring a full range of glass containers. You’ve got Transfiguration with her, eh? So, ask her to teach you.”

“Can’t ’cause of the Education Decree about mixing houses.”

“Yeah, forgot that. Oh, well.” And I produced a couple of large glass jars for them, like the one I’d done for us.

The six of us then proceeded to have some fun seeing if we could predict which pod was going to blow next. With stasis charms ready at any moment, we were able to rescue our missed predictions and after half-an-hour we had each filled a couple of two litre jars.

Neville then put their whole plant into stasis and said, “right, while we were doing that, I’ve had an idea on how to investigate Harry’s thoughts on the other plant.”

Justin and Dean quickly followed his lead and the six of us gathered around the racemose plant on the middle table. Neville then tapped a scrap of his magic into the side of the pot.

“Now, let’s wait for a fly.”

It wasn’t a long wait and a small bush fly flew in and landed on the stem above the dependant flowers. It paused for a moment, then hopped down on to the flowers and then wandered around for a bit. While it was doing that, Neville tapped the pot again and an enlarged three-dimensional image of the flowers appeared above the plant. As the fly moved around the image focused in on where it was.

The fly then triggered the floral mechanism and we watched the image as the hapless insect rolled into a u-shaped hole, which closed over. As it did, some smaller holes around it opened and released the gas they were holding.

“Oh,” said Seamus. “Well, now, that makes things a lot clearer.”

“Yes, but what is that gas? And how does it form around the operculum?” asked Neville.

“Would enclosing a raceme in a bell jar after an insect has landed affect the mechanism?” asked Justin.

“We can try,” said Neville, nodding at me. “Just don’t put it in vacuum.”

“Alright.” Just then a fly landed at the proximal end of the flowers nearest me, so I quickly conjured a jar around the whole head of flowers with a very narrow neck at the top end and I held it as steadily as I could. I was just in time as the fly vanished about half a second later and the gas briefly discoloured the side of the jar.

I realised then that there was no way of removing the jar without damaging the flowers as the neck was too small to slide over. We all burst out laughing at my predicament as Professor Sprout came bustling over.

“What _are_ you boys up to?” Then she caught sight of me holding the jar, “oh.”

“We were trying to capture the gas that’s given off when an insect is taken into the well, but while making sure the gas didn’t escape Potter made the neck of the jar too tight to pull back off,” explained Malfoy.

“Why do you want to capture the gas?”

“It would be good to analyse it to find out what it is. Harry suggested that it might be a neutralising agent for the fly attractant.”

She looked startled. “What made you suspect that?”

“No raceme has been landed on twice in any twenty-minute period.”

Her eyes narrowed for a moment, then I realised what she was about to say.

“Oh no. No, no, no. I can’t possibly be the first person to notice that. I’ve got more than enough to do without writing another paper.”

“What do you mean ‘another’, Mr. Potter?”

“Professor Snape assigned me one yesterday afternoon for a modified burn salve.”

“It’s okay, Harry, I’ll help you write it,” said Neville. “I suspect that I’ll need to explain how the insect gets trapped and the gas is emitted anyway.”

“What do you mean, Neville?” she asked.

“Watch,” he replied. And he reactivated the projection magic he already had in the pot. The image narrowed quickly down to the area where a fly had just landed, and we watched as it fell into a well and the gas was released again.

“Well, you gentlemen are full of interesting surprises. I had no idea of this mechanism and I don’t think that it’s been documented anywhere.”

“How do we find out what the gas is, Professor?” asked Malfoy. I had banished the glass jar when Neville brought up his projection.

“Would it work to dissect the flower?” asked Dean.

Both Sprout and Neville shook their heads. “Probably not, as it’s unlikely to be a gas until the moment of release,” she said. “It’s the sudden release of pressure that causes the liquid to become vapour.”

“So, why not just be testing the liquid?” asked Seamus.

“Because it’s just stinksap when it’s liquid,” said Neville. “It’s the sudden contact with air that changes it.”

I had a sudden thought. “What colour is it?”

The others looked oddly at me.

“Well, the stinksap in the pods is purple. The stuff in the _Mimbulus mimbletonia_ was green. When the gas is given off, it can be seen—even by me. What colour is the liquid?”

“I don’t know. Professor, may we dissect one raceme?”

“Yes, I’m happy to permit that from you gentlemen as I know you will take the correct precautions. I’ll return to find out how you’re going.” And she went off up through the tables to see how the others were going with their investigations.

Malfoy and Neville prepared a space at their table, then Neville carefully snipped off a raceme and laid it on a dissection board. We stood in a loose circle making sure that none of us blocked his light and watched as he cut out a segment from the middle. He rolled it over so that the stem was facing towards him with the flowers away and he nicked his knife into a bulge at the base of one of the flowers. A sickly yellow gunge oozed out of the nick.

“So sulphur?” asked Dean.

“It’s closer in colour to bile,” said Justin.

“Actually, it’s neither,” I said. “It’s the exact colour of babies’ poos when they’ve been exclusively breastfed.”

Malfoy got an odd look on his face, then pipetted some of the yellow gunge and produced a potions testing kit from his bag and ran some tests on it.

“Well, that explains why stinksap is a useful ingredient in animal healing potions,” he announced. “This has the properties of partially digested marsupial milk. Would the origin of this plant happen to be Australia?”

“Why yes, Mr. Malfoy,” said Professor Sprout as she came back. “Although as I only heard your last question, I’m not sure how you came to that conclusion.”

He explained briefly.

“Well, I do know that wombats will actively seek out _Eremophila musca_ when they are unwell.”

“Wombat? What in the name of all that’s holy is a wombat?” asked Seamus.

“Australian magical mammalian quadruped,” answered Justin absently. “Commonly used as a familiar in much the same way as we use kneazles. It’s an herbivorous marsupial.”

I really did appreciate the way Justin had of delivering his knowledge. It was so unlike Hermione’s need to shove it at you while making you feel that if only you had read what you were supposed to, you would know this too.

“Anyway,” I said. “Human baby poo has a particular smell. It’s different from the way ours smells. Would that be enough to mask the fly attractant?”

“It may well be, Mr. Potter. I really think that this ought to be written up for …”

I sighed. “Oh, alright, but it needs to be under all our names—not just mine.”

She smiled and said, “and I’m awarding all six of you an O for this class. Yes, that does include you Mr. Thomas.”

“Me mam will be right pleased. My first ever mark better than A in Herbology. Thank you.”

She went to say something, but another shriek of disgust came from the other end and she bustled off to deal with someone else covered in purple muck.

“How did you know about baby poo, Harry?”

“Oh, one of the librarians over near my aunt’s house had a baby in May, but she couldn’t take all her parental leave because her husband was in an accident at work. So, she came back early and had to bring Brock in with her.”

The bell rang then, so after we had washed our hands and stashed our equipment, we four headed up to join Hufflepuff for History. Binns came through the blackboard as usual just as we arrived and started talking us down into our customary torpor. I tried to listen, but it proved to be hopeless when he went into a genealogical discussion of the various kings of the goblin nations. After hearing that Wartface begat Jetpack who married the daughter of Broomstick, thus consolidating the ties between the goblins of Monrovia and Roswell; and that Runningwild begat Pratfall, who in turn begat Sticklight, who went on to defeat the hordes of darkness at the falls of Rivendell, I realised that I had drifted perilously close to sleep and was about to snore loudly.

Fortunately, it was only a single period and we were able to escape before too long.

As we walked across to the Runes classroom, Hermione joined us and hissed, “I need to tell you something later, somewhere safe.”

“How urgent is it?” I said back in a low voice. “It’s just that we’ve got a lot happening today, including Quidditch trials this evening, so I need to prioritise.”

“It’s just something I saw happening. I think tomorrow will be fine.”

“Cool. I’ll let you know.”


	27. Removing the Binding

Professor Babbling, as promised, had us reviewing Futhark runes. Fortunately the books from Flourish and Blotts had arrived a couple of days ago and the three of us had skimmed through the chapters on Futhark, so we had some idea of their history and what they looked like.

“While on the surface, the Futhark families of runes are collections of simple phonemic representations, there is a lot more to them depending on how they are combined. The combinations can be written in sequence or superimposed. The latter are called bind runes.”

Professor Babbling then had us working on analysing bind rune pairs, to see if we could work out what the individual runes were. It didn’t help that some of them were difficult to distinguish with good vision, let alone my non-spectacular sight. It was Neville who proved to be the best of all of us at working out what the pairs were—including the others who had been studying Ancient Runes for two years already.

Once we’d gone through a worksheet, she gave us another one with bind rune triplets to decipher. These were definitely harder and even Neville was struggling with some of them for a while, until his brain twisted a little and then he could see the patterns again—or that’s how he described it.

After a bit Hermione looked up and asked, “why do we need to know how to break down these bind runes?”

She received several odd looks from the rest of us and then multiple answers came:

“Analysis of other people’s work is useful when working out how to construct your own.”

“Essential knowledge for curse-breakers—get it wrong, you die.”

“Renewing wards.”

“Passive control of fire charms.”

“Who cares? It’s fun.”

“Keeping rabbits.”

There was a shout of laughter at the last one from the wizarding raised students that left Hermione, Justin and me looking puzzled.

Neville explained that there had been a cartoon strip in the children’s section of the Sunday issue of _Daily Prophet_ for years called “Keeping Rabbits”. The rabbits were superheroes in disguise and did amazing things with magic.

“It’s similar in style to _Rupert_,” added Merilyn Cotterill.

“What happened to it?” I asked. If it had been as popular as Rupert, then it should still be going.

“It stopped suddenly when Bertha Jorkins disappeared,” said Malfoy. “So, it’s assumed that she was the contributor. Barnabas Cuffe has never confirmed it though.”

“Tom …” I started, then broke off realising that it wasn’t the best place to be talking about Snakeface’s exploits. We returned to the worksheet and by the end of the lesson I was able to see some of the patterns that gave a clue to breaking down the combinations.

~~

Fred was waiting for us when we left the Runes classroom. “Flitwick wants you four in the room you used earlier today.”

I nodded and we bent our footsteps in that direction, leaving the rest of the class to head off to their studies.

Malfoy was looking around, “where’s your evil twin?”

“Oi,” he said, “_I’m_ the evil twin. Forge is just a wannabe. Not an evil thought in there at all.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re both twisted.”

“Oh, Mr. Malfoy,” he coquetted, “you do say the sweetest things about us, but I’m afraid that our hearts are already given.”

The banter continued in this vein as we walked over to the Charms corridor. George, of course, was already there along with Flitwick, Snape, the six boys and a young Asian man with darkish skin.

“Ah, here you are then,” said Flitwick.

Andrew’s face lit up and he rushed over to us, dragging his brother with him.

“Louis, these are the guys I was telling you about. This is my brother Louis,” and there was a note of immense pride in his voice.

Draco took control of the introductions. “This is Justin Finch-Fletchley, Neville Longbottom, Harry Potter, and I’m Draco Malfoy.”

Louis shook hands with each of us and said, “I believe I have one of you to thank for getting me here, along with a week’s paid holiday. It will certainly be a pleasant change to be among magic users and be able to relax a little, instead of being around no-Maj all the time.”

“No-Maj?” asked Justin.

“It’s the word that the Americans use for muggles,” explained Neville. “It’s short for ‘no magic’.”

“Now, we need to get on with this ritual,” called Professor Flitwick. “Mr. Tenggara, please come and stand here, and Mr. Tenggara over there—outside the circle, but inside the square.”

I looked down and saw that a series of geometric figures had been chalked on the floor. But something didn’t feel right.

“Uh, sir,” I spoke up, “something doesn’t feel right about this pattern.”

I turned to the other guys and found that they were nodding agreement. Malfoy started walking around it, studying it carefully.

“Oh,” he suddenly exclaimed and pointed to an isosceles triangle, “that’s pointing the wrong way. This way, it will increase the binding.”

The two professors looked at each other, then Snape said, “that was the second figure drawn, which means we’ll have to start again.”

Malfoy responded, “let me see what I can do. Step away again please Andrew and Mr. Tenggara.” Then he swept his wand through the air above the shapes and they vanished. “Guys?”

“Before we do,” said Justin, “we need an oath of secrecy from the boys, the twins and Mr. Tenggara.”

“Very good, Mr. Finch-Fletchley. Quite correct and very wise.”

Ye gods, Snape was giving a compliment. Justin acknowledged him with a small bow of his head.

Snape thought for a moment, then came up with an oath: “I <insert name> in the presence of Lady Hogwarts and of Magic do solemn swear that whatever magic I shall witness in the next half hour shall not be divulged to, or discussed with, any person or creature outside of those here present in this room. So mote it be.”

The nine of them took the oath and then Snape and Flitwick both took it as well.

“But sir, you didn’t need to do that. Your professional oaths …”

“Can be gotten around. Witness the tool being used to administer detentions at present.”

I nodded acceptance at that.

The four of us gathered in a huddle for Malfoy to explain, then we stood in an arc across the north end of the room. Or rather, Draco was in between Neville and me and Justin stood behind us with his arms at shoulder height and spread wide.

“Andrew, come and kneel on the floor so that you’re facing north-east. Towards Potter. That’s it. Mr. Tenggara bring the athame with you and stand one metre down the room and face southwest. Now, you five need to be in a shield away from the field. You may watch, but you must not say anything. Professor Flitwick?”

“Yes, Mr. Malfoy, I’ll look after that and stay within it myself.”

“Thank you, sir. Twins, we need you to stand guarding the east and west steadings. The elder should be on the east and the younger on the west.”

They nodded and took their places, with Fred at the east.

“And, finally, Uncle Severus, please take the south. You’re the strongest at holding, but you may need to throw yourself flat while doing so. It may split to channel around you, but I don’t know.”

While he was talking, the three of us had removed our robes and bared our forearms. Once everyone was in position, and Flitwick had reinforced the locking charms on the door and windows, Draco raised his arms straight out to chest height and Neville and I moved our outside arms across our bodies so that they met under Malfoy’s. We touched our middle fingers, then bent our hands so that the pads of our thumbs touched. Our inner arms went out and around behind Malfoy and met in the same way. Justin, then placed his hands on our outer shoulders.

“Slice your dominant hand open, Mr. Tenggara, and allow 12 drops of blood to fall directly in front of you, then cradle your hand so that no more blood falls, but don’t not heal your wound.”

The room then went completely silent. I felt rather than heard the hiss of pain as the athame slid across his palm, then I felt the magic in the room build as each drop fell. I knew we were all counting. Seven … eight … nine … ten … eleven. The magic was almost unbearable and time seemed to slow down. Neville’s and my hands began to rise towards Draco’s arms, but we held back from touching him until the twelfth drop had fallen. There it went. Our bare forearms rose, seemingly of their own accord and gently came to rest against Draco’s, while the arms around his back dropped down a little. As soon as the connection was made, dark blue magic manifested between the four of us. It tried to go north, but Justin stopped it and forced it back and into the channel that Malfoy’s arms made.

Then with a rush, it ran forward, found the fallen blood and pulled it up and over in a fountain so that it fell on Andrew. The blood tested the boy, found him acceptable and threw out that which did not belong.

Snape, with lightning reflexes threw himself prone to the floor, keeping the line exactly south, and the poisonous binding flew over him with a deathly scream and fell into a crystal vase that capped itself immediately sealing it in.

We then had to work out how to get out of the pattern without hurting ourselves or anyone else in the room. We called our combined magic back, but it wasn’t very keen and seemed to want to play. It split into two and darted at Fred and George at the same time.

“Nuh uh. You’re not getting out this way.” And they held their places.

We were beginning to sweat where we had contact with each other, and I could feel my groin twitching.

“Hold on,” murmured Justin. “We mustn’t lose control now.” And he gripped our shoulders tighter. Then it dawned on me what needed to happen. I looked directly and Neville and hoped that he had the same idea. We dropped the hands at Draco’s back lower and brought them in to rest at the top of his arse.

He twitched a little when we did, but then pushed back against our hands. Then we called the magic back and, thankfully, it returned and quietened down while we gradually reversed our actions until we were four separate people again.

Draco then directed the undoing of the ritual positions, again in reverse order. Only once we had stepped away, did Flitwick release the boys from the shield charm. They wanted to rush over to us immediately, but Flitwick and Snape restrained them.

“Not yet, we have to let the magic settle. There’s still a lot of residual wild magic. If you rush in there, your magic will combine with it before it’s ready,” he explained.

“Would that be dangerous, sir?” asked one of the boys.

“It can be. It depends on how compatible your magic is with that of those who did the working. However, this is not the moment to find that out. Also, none of you have reached your first majority, so your own magic has yet to settle.”

Flitwick added, “that’s why you have problems doing some spells and it’s also why we only teach you the core subjects at First- and Second-Year levels. Your magical cores are not developed enough to take on more complex magic.”

While they were talking, we were working on pulling the separated magic strands back into our cores. Malfoy was struggling with it until Justin stood in front of him and placed his hands on his shoulders.

“You got this, Draco, you _can_ do it. Breathe in, two , three, four, five. And out, two, three, four, five. In … out …”

The calmness in his voice seemed to help and Malfoy’s heart rate slowed down and gradually normalised. I briefly wondered in the back of my mind why I knew what his heart rate was doing but pushed it aside in the interests of checking on the Tenggara brothers.

“Uh, when can I heal my hand?”

“Oh,” said Malfoy. “Sorry, I forgot about that. Mr. Tenggara,” he turned to Andrew, “you need to heal your brother’s hand to complete the ritual.”

“Me? But how do I do that? I don’t have my wand, and I don’t know any healing spells anyway.”

“Go and take his hand in both of yours. Good. Now, imagine his hand whole again.”

The boy gasped as he watched the skin join up together. “How did I do that?”

“Magic.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. But how?”

“You aligned your intent with your magic.”

“But, wordless and wandless?”

“That’s more in Professor Flitwick’s domain to teach you how that works.”

“That’s as may be,” said the professor, “however, we have some more urgent matters to attend to. Are you yet able to tell us who attacked you? And who bound your magic?”

“I can think their names now, but I can’t say them. It’s like there’s something stopping my tongue from saying the words.”

Malfoy turned to Snape, “Uncle Severus, would using Legilimency work in this situation?”

“Only as a last resort, Draco. The younger the mind the more dangerous it is to their sanity.”

“Professor Flitwick, do you have a projection stone with you?” said Justin.

George piped up, “I’ve got one in my bag.”

“We use it to study …”

“… our memories of how …”

“… our experiments go.”

He pulled out a dark brown stone that was flecke with slivers of bright green.

“Mr. Weasley, wherever did you get that? It’s one of the finest I’ve seen.”

“Uh, owl order …”

“… from Craigslist.”

Louis Tenggara was the only one of us to react to that.

“I didn’t know there was a wizarding section on there,” he exclaimed while Fred and George quickly set it up. A scourgify cleaned Andrew’s hands of his brother’s blood, then he was led over, and the twins quietly instructed him what to do.

He reached out his hand and touched the stone. A riot of images started appearing, including some from the ritual we had just done. George said something to him and the images then settled and focused. The boys had come out of a classroom and Andrew went off to the nearest bathroom while the other boys headed down to Potions. He’d finished his business and was washing his hands when someone came in. I only vaguely recognised him, but both Snape and Malfoy drew a sharp breath, so I guessed he was a Slytherin. The newcomer turned his head and shouted over his shoulder and two other blokes wandered in, their eyes lighting up as they spotted Andrew at the sinks.

They shoved him away from the sink and proceeded to prowl around him spitting insults. I decided it was a good thing that the projection was silent. One of them reached over and took Andrew’s wand out of his pocket and his voice faded in. “… you don’t deserve to have this, you’re just a slant-eyed chink. The old man is too soft, letting your kind study here at this noble …” and the voice faded out again.

I chanced a glance at Snape. He was white. I mean, whiter than usual. And his face had a very set look on it.

One of the guys then pulled out his wand and we could see him mouthing something and Andrew fell to the floor. He was picked up and carried around to the alcove we found him in and the last thing we saw was them putting up the charms that Flitwick and Anaï had taken down.

He took his hand off the stone and burst into tears. It was George who knelt beside him to take him into his arms and let him cry it out. “Well done, Andrew. You did really well there. I think that secretly you’re a Gryffindor, ’cause that was so brave.”

The boy gave a watery chuckle. “Hat didn’t know what to do with me last year. Said I had everything in equal proportion.”

“Well, the fact that you were one of my snakes last year means that I am singularly unimpressed by the behaviour of those three. They were in the Slytherin House with you last year, and Mr. Wilton was even your assigned mentor. The Slytherin team will be missing the services of their beaters.”

“Sir, may we prank …”

“Mr. Weasley, please do not ask me that question.”

“Ah, plausible …”

“… deniability. Got it ...”

“… loud and clear.”

“Can we go to Andrew now, sir?” asked one of the boys from their corner.

“May we, not can we. Yes, you may.”

They rushed over and enveloped him in a mass of excited chatter. The twins took the opportunity to slip out of the room and we four shared a block of chocolate, carefully giving Draco the biggest portion as he’d had the biggest drain on his magic.

Meanwhile the two professors were chatting with Andrew’s brother. “I’ll do my best but, although I am their head of house, I do not have the final word on their status in the school.”

“Now, we do need to sort out some accommodation for you, Mr. Tenggara,” said Flitwick.

“Oh, I’m not fussy. I can bunk in with the boys. Remember that for the last several years, I’ve been in pokey little rooms in the bowels of cruise ships.”

“No, that’s not allowed. However, we can arrange a guest suite near to the Ravenclaw entrance. Anaï.”

“Yaas, Maaster Flittywick.”

“This is Mr. Tenggara’s brother. Can you please arrange for a guest suite near to Ravenclaw?”

“Anaï will be trying, but it not being easy. Sneaky old man and high over-curious pink witch not liking house elves to make rooms like that.”

“Mr. Tenggara, you would be welcome to reside in my quarters. Although, they are in the dungeons, they are quite comfortable.”

Malfoy heard that and threw his godfather a quick look, then shook his head.

“What?” I whispered.

“Later.”

“Now, gentlemen, it’s time we headed off from here and made ready for the evening meal.” That was Flitwick. “Yes, Mr. Tenggara, you may take your brother with you to show him your Chamber. However, he will not be staying there. Professor Snape has kindly offered to accommodate him.”

The boys led the way back to Ravenclaw Tower, all talking volubly, while we four followed behind more sedately.

When we got to our room Justin turned to Malfoy. “Spill.”

“I’m not sure how much I can say—and you can’t tell anyone else—but Uncle Severus has a strong preference for male company.”

“You mean, he’s gay?” asked Justin.

“Whatever that actually means,” said Neville.

“So, his kind offer of accommodating Tenggara senior …”

“Was understood and accepted. They’re both adults. It’s up to them and none of our business,” was the firm response.

“Agreed, Longbottom. I’m just not sure when the last time was that he actually invited a guest into his quarters—let alone so openly.”


	28. Quidditch Trials

The evening post arrived with our desserts (yoghurt and fresh fruit for us again) and a nondescript brown owl came to Neville with two letters.

“Thank you,” he said, and he petted it briefly before it left.

The first had an official-looking seal and the letter was addressed in a clear round hand.

“Oh, listen to this, guys,” he said.

> “Dear Mr. Longbottom,
> 
> “Thank you for your submission of your manuscript _Aconite at Every Stage: A Novel Way of Teaching Plant Growth_ to _The Journal of the Royal Herbology Society_. The referees have both spoken very highly of your paper and we are pleased to advise that it has been accepted for publication in the next issue (October) without any need for further editing.
> 
> “We look forward to receiving the other paper(s) alluded to in your concluding remarks. If they are of the same calibre, we will have no hesitation in publishing them also.
> 
> “May I personally congratulate you and your co-authors on the lucid presentation of what is an exciting development in teaching the Science of Herbology.
> 
> “I remain, my dear sir, yours sincerely,
> 
> “Deralie Ignotia Selwyn
> 
> “Editor in Chief”

“Do you think she realises that we’re only fifteen?” asked Justin.

“Only if Professor Sprout added a note about that. I’ll need to let her know that it’s been accepted already.”

I looked up at the Head Table in time to see her tucking a similar looking letter back into its envelope with a look of satisfaction on her face. “I think she already knows.”

Neville picked up the other letter and opened it. “I don’t think I’ll read this one out loud,” he said after scanning through it, and he gave it to Justin, who then passed it across to me and Malfoy.

> “Dear Mr. Longbottom,
> 
> “This to acknowledge your kind note and its enclosures. I have already been in communication with the D. M. and we will meet to discuss the best way to resolve this situation as soon as is practically possible.
> 
> “Kind regards (and my best wishes to your Grandmother),
> 
> “A. B.”

I passed it back to Neville with a grin and he tucked it away quietly in an inner pocket of his robes.

~~

It was Ravenclaw’s turn for Quidditch trials that evening. The day had been overcast and about 40 us gathered with our brooms and gear in the Entrance Hall. We were chatting quietly amongst ourselves beside the open doors when we heard her footsteps tapping on the floor of the East Corridor.

“Here she comes, Roger, get ready,” I murmured.

“Children, what is this noise? And why are you all gathered here instead of being at your studies?”

“Professor,” said Davies in his most respectful tones. “We’re supposed to be on the Quidditch pitch running trials for the Ravenclaw team.”

“Well, why are you not there then?”

“Because the sun has set, Professor, and the Educational Decree posted on Monday does not permit us to go down to the pitch.”

There was a brief moment when a flash of something went across her face. Triumph, glee, pleasure? I’m not sure what it was, but it was definitely there.

“So, instead we are discussing strategy and how to fly in the different roles. This will, of course, prepare the team fully for our first game.”

I felt my eyes widen a little when I realised what he was doing—telling her that her teaching methods had been taken to heart and emulated.

“And why cannot you do this in your Common Room?” she asked in her most honeyed tones.

“We didn’t want to disturb the other members of our House and the visual aid of the pitch is very useful in explaining some of the moves. Our Common Room doesn’t overlook the pitch.”

She gave him a withering look and was about to shoo us away when the sound of an explosion came from the East Corridor and she bustled away to deal with it.

“Probably the Twins,” I said in response to Roger’s enquiring look. Then I had an idea. “Give me five minutes but bring everyone up to the Seventh Floor where the Troll Ballet tapestry is. I might be able to temporarily solve this.” And I bolted away up the staircases.

Only one misbehaved and I reached the Seventh Floor panting about five minutes later.

“I need somewhere for Ravenclaw Quidditch trials,” I muttered as I paced up and down three times. A grey-painted pair of wooden doors appeared in the wall. I thrust them open and walked into the room. I was greeted by a pair of doors just like those leading into the gym. I opened the one labelled “Wizards” and could see another door at the other end. I didn’t want to explore further otherwise I wouldn’t hear the others arrive. I went back to the grey doors and waited. A few minutes later I heard the tramp of footsteps and the accompanying chatter as the first people came up the stairs into the corridor.

“Changing rooms in front of you. Sorry, Bradley, that they’re gendered. I wasn’t expecting them.”

They shrugged, “it’s okay. It just happens sometimes.”

Malfoy followed a couple of Second-Year girls in. “I think I’m the last, Potter.”

“Good-o. I think the door will vanish from the outside when I shut it.”

We got into our gear quickly, then went through the second door. The Castle had provided an amazing space. Or, rather, a series of spaces. Roger was just standing, staring at it with his mouth wide open.

“So, Davies, how do you want to do this?” asked Bradley.

He shook himself and said, “we’ll start with the elimination rounds of the wannabes, then move onto testing the roles. Looks like there’s a space for testing each of the roles.

“Right everyone, mount up and take to the air in pairs. Once round clockwise, keeping to your pair.

“Now, peel off to change direction and fly the other way in your pairs.”

There were a couple of collisions between some of the juniors, who were then sent to the ground. Roger then had us flying corkscrews at varying speeds, turning abruptly, and doing stalls at various angles. At the end of that we were down to twenty potential players.

“You will all test for all the positions, including me. I want the best in each position. If you don’t like that, then drop out now.”

No one did and we went across to an area with three sets of goals.

“First three up.”

The Room started throwing quaffles at the goals. At first, they were easy lobs and were easily caught, but pretty soon they were coming fast from different angles. Before it could become more difficult again, the first three all had five goals scored against them.

“Next three.”

A couple of rounds later and it was my turn, along with Cho and Malfoy. I’d never played in the Keeper spot before, so it was interesting to see it from the other side. It was about three minutes in when Malfoy dropped out. I didn’t have a chance to see what Cho was doing because there was an increase in speed just then. Somehow I got through that, but then the quaffles started coming in two at a time and I had to drop out.

“Last two,” called Roger as he and Bradley went up.

When they came down Roger announced that Bradley, me and a Fourth Year called Denise Stickles were the top three. “Potter lasted the longest, but Bradley and Stickles were more efficient because they were less reactive and more proactive.

That made sense, I guessed, because all my past games were as seeker, which is essentially a reactive role.

It was on to the Beater tests next. The Room provided a series of flying targets representing the Chasers and working in pairs we needed to score as many strikes as possible without getting hit ourselves. Every time a target was hit, it vanished and a smaller or faster target appeared somewhere else. Miss five targets in a row or let yourself be hit and you were eliminated. By the time Cho and I went up for our turn, no one had lasted more than three minutes.

We didn’t do very well either. Roger and Malfoy had a go and that was over in less than a minute. When they came down I could see Malfoy having a quick word with Davies. He nodded.

“Potter and Malfoy, have a go together.”

I was surprised but shrugged, and we flew up with bats in hand ready to meet the first targets. The first few were very easy, then we fell into a rhythm and started knocking out targets till they were moving faster than either of us could move on our brooms and had dropped in size to smaller than a typical First Year student. We had a couple of misses, then I saw a look of determination on Draco’s face and we picked up a notch and got the next seven. Missed one. Got two, missed another. By now the targets were the size of bludgers and I was struggling to even see them.

“Dip into your magic, Potter,” called Malfoy.

I closed my eyes and felt for my magic and then carried on. We hit several more before being chimed out when they were the size of snitches and zipping around faster than a scarlet snidget on a sugar rush.

“That has to be the most impressive display of Beating that has ever been seen,” stated Bradley.

“I agree. Who else hasn’t had a try?”

A couple of people put their hands up, but seemed reluctant to actually go up and try. It appeared that they barely knew each other, so were sure they wouldn’t do very well.

“Okay then, Chaser tests.”

The Room rotated to bring the focus onto some sets of goals. When the first couple of flyers went up a quaffle appeared in their hands and the shadow of a keeper appeared. One of the rings lit up and they had to throw the quaffle through that ring to get ten points. If it went through one of the other rings, they only got five points. If the keeper blocked and they recovered the quaffle within five seconds they didn’t lose any points, but started losing points at one per second after that. If they missed all the rings, they lost three points. Every fifty points increased the difficulty and anyone who lost twenty points was eliminated and the next one went up in their place.

The first few were eliminated quickly, but Stickles managed to stay up and had 180 points by the time Cho had her turn. Cho reached sixty points, but then started losing them as she kept missing the quaffle’s return. Malfoy replaced her and was still in when Stickles had to come down exhausted having reached 420 points and only losing her points on a botched pick-up. It was my turn then. I quickly got through the first fifty, as the keeper shadow wasn’t very good, but then I found I was struggling to see the goals, or the quaffle, and just as quickly lost the points. When I came down, Bradley went up, then Davies soon after them. Malfoy was still going strong, but Roger’s experience in the position soon began to tell and he rapidly caught up with and then passed him, reaching 560 and then losing three points when he missed the rings completely. Malfoy had dropped out at 396.

“Some excellent performances there from several of you. Anyone who reached 75 or higher did very well against such a difficult Keeper.”

Davies was quite different to Oliver Wood in the way he went about encouraging his team.

“Now, onto the Seeker position.”

The goals vanished and the space was enlarged by a lot and flying objects appeared.

“Okay, this one’s going to be like playing Musical Chairs. There is one snitch less than the number of people. The one who doesn’t get a snitch in each round is eliminated. All twenty of us up.”

And so began the maddest Seeker’s challenge ever. It was huge fun and even those who were eliminated had grins on their faces. For the first round, the snitches were the size of quaffles, but they winked in and out of existence just like a normal snitch. By the fifth round, they were down to normal size.

About fifteen minutes later, we were down to the last five, having just knocked Davies out when Cho and Malfoy went for the same snitch that Roger was going for. Cho got that one and Malfoy did his flip and caught another that was trying to sneak past under the three of them.

So, it was the three experienced Seekers, Adeyemi and a Third Year by the name of Star Hughes. Adeyemi went out next when Cho faked her to the wrong end of the pitch. Then Star went out, but only because my arm was longer than hers.

“Very well done, Ms. Hughes. I look forward to seeing you play in the future.”

She thanked me and then dropped down out of the way, then we were game on. The two snitches seemed to prefer each other’s company, so the three of us were continually weaving in and around each other. Because of that my broom had no speed advantage over theirs, for all it was a Firebolt. It was going to be brute force that eliminated one of us. Several times we were about to grab the snitches and find out, only to have them wink out and reappear twenty metres away.

Then one decided it had had enough and reappeared under my broom, close enough for me to reach down and grab it before wheeling up and out of the way of the other two as they struggled for possession of the remaining one. Then they both grabbed it at exactly the same moment and found they were holding a wing each.

There was a moment of stunned surprise before a burst of laughter rang from them and then everyone else once they realised what had happened.

The Room sent the three of us to floor and a clock appeared. We only had twenty minutes left until curfew.

“Alright everyone, I’ve got enough information to make my decisions. I’ll post the list on the noticeboard tomorrow. Head out.” Then he turned to me and said quietly, “I’m not sure what magic you did to get this space but thank you. It’s certainly made things a lot easier.”

I said something about “no worries,” and followed him and Malfoy into the Changing Room. The Juniors had already scarpered, and it was just the three of us. Roger took a look at the showers but decided to head back down. “I would take too long in the shower and that would make us late back. Detentions for the Quidditch Captain are not a good look.” And he left.

“I’ve got the Cloak with me, so there’s no hurry if you want to shower up here,” I said.

Malfoy nodded then started to strip. I followed suit and soon we were standing opposite each other in just our underwear.

“Scared, Malfoy?”

“You wish, Potter.” And he pulled them off and stood there challenging me to look at him in all his naked glory.

I dropped mine and adopted a similar pose. Then I decided to be a little braver than usual and I cancelled my glamours.

We openly looked at each other. Malfoy had light brown pubes surrounding his dick and balls. The colour matched his eyebrows. As I looked, I could see his dick lengthen and felt mine react as well. I reached down and ran my palm along its length and heard his breath catch. We just stood there for a bit longer, then jumped a bit when we heard Cho call out “we’re all done on our side, Harry.”

“Thanks, Cho. See you later,” I managed to call out without sounding too off.

The outer door opened then closed again. It was just the two of us up here now. My dick was half-hard now and poking out from my body. Malfoy’s was beginning to do the same.

“C-can I touch it?” he asked huskily.

I shook my head. “No, not until we’ve learnt how to control the magic that will happen if you do.”

He looked frustrated but nodded his acceptance.

I moved over the showers and turned one on but didn’t put the modesty barrier in place. I grabbed a handful of liquid soap from a dispenser and started to soap up, paying particular attention to my equipment, all the while watching him. His cock climbed to full-mast as he followed my example and went under a showerhead a couple up from me. Our hands started moving faster and I reached my other hand up to caress my chest, then I got the feeling of inevitability build under my balls. I gasped and my orgasm hit me, and I sprayed spunk over the shower floor in Draco’s direction. A few seconds later I heard him grunt and his juice joined mine on the floor between us.

The showers then took over the clean-up process and a few minutes later we were both dry and pulling on our clothes to go back down to our Chamber.

He looked a bit disappointed when I reapplied the glamours, but I couldn’t cope with the vulnerability of not having them there. I pulled the Invisibility Cloak out.

“If we’re careful, we should manage to get down there together. When we were smaller, me, Ron, and Hermione would all fit.”

“Is this a good idea, Potter? You and me together with magical objects isn’t usually a good combination.”

“Well, what do you suggest?”

“We could just call Dobby, you know?”

“Oh,” I felt stupid because I hadn’t thought of that for us. I mean, I used him to get Colin the other night and had thought to use an elf that very morning to get help for Tenggara.

“You really don’t have any self-regard, do you Potter?” he said, but not in his usual sneering way, before heading for the door.

“Wait a moment, Dra … Malfoy. Let me check the map to make sure no one’s in the corridor outside.”

A quick check showed that Professor Flitwick was patrolling one floor down, but no other staff member or prefect was anywhere near us.

“Mischief managed,” I muttered as I stuffed my gear into my bag, grabbed my broom and followed him out into the corridor. The doors melted back into the wall and it was solid stone once again.

“Dobby!”

Pop. “Yes, Master Draco?”

“Dobby, please take us back to Ravenclaw Tower.”

“Dobby is taking you to your Chamber?”

“No, to the corridor outside the Entrance. We need to be seen coming in by the rest of the Quidditch people,” I said quickly.

“Dobby can be doing that.” He put a hand on each of our arms and we were suddenly ten metres from the door. He vanished with a pop and just as we approached the Knocker we heard the tell-tale footsteps of Umbridge. I pulled out the Cloak and flung it over the both of us and we watched her draw closer.

She looked about her with an air of complacency, then went up to the Knocker. “Hem, hem. Have all students returned to the Common Room?”

“What is it that goes by four legs in the morning, two legs in the afternoon and three legs in the evening?”

“This is not the moment for your riddling, you stupid crow. I asked you a straightforward question, and as High Inquisitor of Hogwarts I require a straightforward answer.”

It didn’t respond and after some more insults, she gave up and departed to look elsewhere for answers to her questions.

We quickly slipped into the Common Room and discovered that there were just a few of the older students still present. We kidded around with them for a few minutes, then yawning widely made our excuses and went to our beds.


	29. Friday the Thirteenth

Friday 13 September

I was woken by my wand alarm and it took a while to register that I was in our room rather than running naked through the Atrium at the Ministry. The dream mind is a weird place, but at least it was a relatively normal dream instead of those I had become accustomed to.

I could hear Justin moving about, so I got up and joined him. When we got back from our run I saw a small group of people gathered at the noticeboard.

“That’ll be the Quidditch team selectons,” I murmured as we passed through. “I’ll wait for a bit and look at the list with Malfoy so that we can find out together.”

After showering, the four of us came down with our bags ready for the day and headed straight for the noticeboard.

> Ravenclaw Quidditch Team
> 
> _Keeper_: Stickles (reserve Davies (K.))
> 
> _Beaters_: Malfoy & Potter (reserve Falola)
> 
> _Chasers_: Davies (R.), Bradley, Falkirk (reserves Harris, Pole)
> 
> _Seeker_: Chang (reserve Hughes)
> 
> First practice Saturday 2 pm
> 
> Please keep the team makeup confidential until our first game.
> 
> R. Davies (Captain)”

“Well, that’s going to startle everyone, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, well the three of us Seekers are fairly evenly matched, so we all tested for all the positions. Potter and I worked reasonably well together as Beaters, so that’s all good.”

“Doesn’t mean we don’t enjoy playing Seeker anymore, it’s just what’s going to work for the team,” I added. “And anyway, the trials were fun, and I’ve never tested for the other positions. McGonagall just told Wood that I would be the Seeker and that was that.”

Ms. Hughes came past at that moment and I congratulated her on her position as reserve Seeker. “You really did do very well last night and working alongside Cho with Malfoy and me in the background will help you do even better next time.”

She ducked her head and blushed while thanking me.

A breakfast of Bircher muesli for the others and a raspberry smoothie for me was accompanied by a discussion on the necessity of a wand action to successfully cast a levitation charm. The discussion gradually widened to include the whole top end of the table from Seventh to Fourth year. We came to no particular consensus, but it didn’t matter as it was the debate that we enjoyed. Also, no one insulted anyone else. It was the most civilised debate I’d been part of. It would have degenerated into a slanging match had it been at the Gryffindor table.

Shortly before we headed off to Potions, I noticed a small ruction happening over at the Slytherin table. A pair of aurors had come in quietly and were talking to a couple of students who had their backs to me. I nudged Malfoy, who nodded and said, “yes, those are two of them. Not sure where the other one is.”

They were hauled to their feet and handcuffed, then they vanished.

“I didn’t think port-keys worked inside Hogwarts,” I said.

“Normally they don’t, but for either healer or DMLE reasons they can override the protections—provided that Hogwarts can sense no malevolence,” replied Malfoy.

And with that, we headed down to the dungeons, ignoring the buzz of speculation as to what the arrests were about.

Potions was a lecture on the various kinds of stabilisers that can be used. There is no universal stabiliser, despite what one of our textbooks claimed. Snape went on to demonstrate why this was so, and I really wished there was a way of video-taping this class so that I could review it several times.

Potash, baking soda, banana skins, citric acid, boot polish, candlewax, and dung beetle antennae all came into his demonstrations.

Baking soda was the only obvious one to me as it neutralises acid, the rest I would never have thought of. Even though I knew that potash and banana skins both have lots of potassium, the link between homeostasis in living organisms and potions for consumption was well outside the box of my thinking.

Snape’s passion for Potions was obvious. It was a pity, though, that it didn’t translate well into most of his teaching. It was quite different to Draco’s style.

As we headed up to our next class, I mentioned my wish that Snape’s lecture could have been recorded. Justin nodded his agreement, while Neville and Malfoy just looked at me oddly.

“You do realise, Potter, that you can view your memories of a lesson?”

Well, derr, I thought. I need to remember to pick up the pensieve from Dad’s vault on Sunday.

Defence was a muted lesson of reading more about hostile and friendly opponents, while trying to pretend that Umbridge didn’t exist.

We left the classroom in complete silence and headed for the Charms corridor.

“Alright,” said Flitwick excitedly, “today we’re going to look at combining cushioning and levitation charms. Who would like to start us off with an example of why we would want to do this?”

Hermione’s hand was immediately in the air, but there were several others as well and Flitwick called on Stanton.

“For assisting the elderly and others who are less able to get out of a chair.”

“Excellent, that’s a use I hadn’t thought of. Ms. Hopkirk?”

“Magical circus acts.”

“Good. Mr. Malfoy?”

“They’re an essential pair when making a Quidditch broom and if they’re not cast together, the broom will not perform well.”

A few hands went down with that. Then I had a sudden thought and put my hand up.

Susan Bones offered, “training someone to duel.”

He nodded, then called on Hermione, who offered one of her classic textbook answers.

“One of the principal purposes of combining a cushioning charm with a levitation charm is to ensure that what is being levitated is not damaged.”

We looked at each other and sighed. “I thought she was getting better, but that’s still her old ‘regurgitate the textbook’ crap,” muttered Justin.

Flitwick called on me just then, “I have two sir—if I may? The first is in restaurants when delivering food to a table.” He nodded encouragingly and I continued with, “and in a hospital setting when turning a patient or changing the bedding.”

“Very good, all of you. Now, let’s consider the how. For most of your examples the charms must be cast simultaneously rather than consecutively. The experiments you did last week with summoning and cushioning charms showed you how difficult it is to control consecutive casting when you have only a short time available. So, what are the ways of doing simultaneous casting? Mr. Longbottom?”

“Two people doing one each, like they do in Broom factories. But they’d have to work together very carefully to prevent the charms from competing.”

“Absolutely right, Mr. Longbottom. Yes, Ms. Patil?”

“Use two wands, one in each hand.”

“Single person, double casting. Good. Ms. Granger?”

“Isn’t double casting like that dangerous, though?”

“It can be, but it’s more difficult than dangerous. One will be the primary wand, which in the dominant hand will be inclined to overpower the other one, and learning to use a wand in the other hand can be very challenging. What other ways can you think of for simultaneous casting?”

“Similar to Ms. Patil’s, but wand and wandless,” was MacMillan’s suggestion.

Justin raised his hand and was called on, “develop a new charm that does both without having to do two charms.”

A scoffing sound was heard quietly from Ms. Textbook-has-all-the-answers, which we carefully didn’t respond to.

“Oh, very good, Mr. Finch-Fletchley. Yes, Mr. Pritchard?”

“In the end, because it’s really about intent, couldn’t we just intend a cushioned levitation? That way all we’d be doing charm-wise is the levitation.”

“Which is exactly what is done in the hospital setting that Mr. Potter gave as a use-case.”

I could see that Hermione was getting upset and I whispered to Justin to look at her magic and see if there was anything odd going on.

“It’s sage green, shapeless, and has lots of jagged edges,” he scribbled on a scrap of paper.

I wondered what had happened to her over the summer that she hadn’t mentioned during the couple of weeks we’d been together at Grimmauld Place. Mind you, I hadn’t really given her much of a chance to tell me anything given how cross I’d been with them both for blindly obeying Dumbledore’s orders about not writing to me.

“Alright then, next question to ponder. What would be the measures of success? How would you know if you have successfully performed the two charms together? Ms. Cotterill?”

She looked a bit startled to have been called on, but I could hear the grin in her voice as she said, “the object being levitated is cushioned.”

“Well, yes, but you could equally offer ‘the object being cushioned is levitated.’ I think we can do better than a classic first year answer.” However, he did say it with a smile.

“Wouldn’t it depend on the particular situation? I mean, changing bedsheets under a sick patient is different from making a Quidditch broom.” That was Adeyemi getting a word in.

“Yes, absolutely. Anyone else?”

Silence.

“That’s fine. Research it and think about it some more. We’ll discuss it in our next session together. I should say that explaining how to know that this pair of charms is successful was a question on the OWL examination three years ago.”

Then it was practice time and we spent the remaining forty minutes working on refining our skills in the two classes of charms.

As we left the classroom, I slipped a note to Hermione asking her to meet me on the seventh floor after classes.

We had just sat down for lunch when Professor Snape came past. As we walked behind us, he murmured, “Draco, please come and see me after your last class.”

Malfoy dipped his head slightly and Snape continued his way down to the Head Table. He paused to suddenly stoop down behind Tenggara and picked something up off the floor.

“Do be careful about your wand, Mr. Tenggara,” came his drawl as he passed it over.

The boy blushed and muttered something as he accepted his wand back and cast a lumos.

Snape stalked the rest of the way and settled at his place, looking out with his customary sneer at the assembled students, as if he hadn’t just returned a stolen wand. Andrew’s brother came in through the staff door with Professor Sprout and he sat beside Snape and they started conversing.

~~

After Divination, we met up in the changing room and went through together into the gym, where we started warming up on the stationary bikes. I’m not too keen on the saddles on those things. They press on the area between my balls and arse and it all goes numb.

Then Stagnant got us straight into our workouts.

Much like Wednesday, Draco and I started with goblet squats and lat pulldowns. We kept to the same weights as Wednesday. Stagnant said that, if we aced them this time, then we could go up by half a kilo next time.

“It’s slow and steady that will get you through to good muscle development with no injuries.”

When we finished the lat pulldowns, Neville and Justin took over that station while we went round the other side of the equipment and did some cable rows.

Stagnant wouldn’t let us pull more than 15 kg. “It’s more important to do this with good form, than to yank big weights around. I want you to imagine that a couple of guys are standing right behind you, now pull the weight with your back and jam your elbows into those guys’ guts. Be more vicious than that, Malfoy. That’s it, and again. Twice more. Even harder this time.”

We alternated that with step-ups, then it was on to the weight carrying thing that Justin had us doing in our first visit to the gym. I actually surprised Stagnant when I grabbed a pair of 40 kg dumbbells and set off to do the required 40 steps.

“Not much impresses me, young Potter, but the fact that you can pick up, let alone carry, that much does.”

Prone reverse flies and planks were used in between the carries and we finished off with two sets of dumbbell curls, while Neville and Justin were doing lateral raises beside us.

“Potter, your elbows are wandering. Tuck them in. Think of them as a stationary hinge. Try standing sideways to the mirror and watch.”

We completed our second sets to Stagnant’s satisfaction.

“Alright, before you go and rollout. We need to set up a time to take your measurements tomorrow. The reason for tomorrow and not now is that your muscles need time to recover. I propose that I turn up in your Chamber at seven. I expect that you will have done a double elimination before then.”

We nodded our agreement and felt a tingle of magic wash over us. I realised that we had just entered into a magical contract that allowed him to access our room.

“You,” he declared pointing at Justin, “will not go for a run tomorrow. I expect you to take one day off a week.

“Now, go and rollout your legs, then take a five minute sauna before showering. Off with you.”

We made the farewell bows and did as he said. Justin and Neville were groaning a bit about the deadlifts they’d just done, particularly as Stagnant had made them alternate with body weight dips.

When we came out of the sauna the same two guys as Monday were there stripping off to do their workouts. Just as we headed into the shower area, Francisco Hughes came in. I recognised him from last year’s Hufflepuff team and realised that he was Star’s older brother.

“Frankie!” and the guy rushed over and snogged him.

“Mitch, really? It’s only been two hours since you saw me.”

“Yes, but it’s felt like days and the pink toad is keeping us apart. You could go for a re-sorting, you know?”

“Yes, I could. But if I got moved out of Slytherin, that would leave only two guys to look after the male half of the house. You saw the aurors take away Stanhope and Wilton at breakfast? Well, they also took away Bulstrode.”

“Shit.”

“Exactly. Now, get off me for a moment so that I can get changed for my workout.”

The other guy had already gone into the gym and Mitch and Francisco quickly got changed and went through to join him.

We finished showering, got dressed and left the changing room just as the bell went. Malfoy headed down to see Snape, while we three went up to the seventh floor to meet up with Hermione. I asked the room for a place to meet with Hermione and a white painted carved wooden door appeared just as she did. I gestured to her to precede us and followed her in. We found a room with a cluster of overstuffed armchairs grouped around a fireplace. The mantlepiece was ornately carved with a woodland scene.

We went over to the chairs and were about to sit down when I realised that Hermione was still standing near the door and just staring about her.

“What’s wrong Hermione?”

“This room …”

“Yes?”

“It’s identical to the living room at my grandparents’ house. How can that be?”

I shrugged, then said, “magic.” It seemed to be the standard response to anything unexplainable.

“Is it a room that you feel comfortable in?” asked Neville.

“Oh yes. It’s possibly my favourite room to be in.”

As she sat down a coffee table appeared between the chairs with drinks on it. Us guys chose a glass of water each, while Hermione took a cup of tea.

“Now, what did you want to tell us? Something you saw, was it?”

“Yes. I was heading back from Astronomy on Wednesday night when I heard Professor Flitwick talking with Professor McGonagall.

“ ‘Minerva, I wonder if I might have a quiet word.’

“ ‘Certainly Filius.’

“ ‘What do you know about the book _A Woman’s Weapon Most Potente_?’

“ ‘You mean other than that it’s internationally banned and a copy is somewhere around the school? I don’t know much about the book itself, but I am aware of some of its contents and the dangers of dabbling in the magic it contains.’

“ ‘Ms. Edgecombe was found to have a copy. The students who found it passed it to me as quickly as they could. Adolescent boys are somewhat squeamish about its general subject matter. How did you know of the copy?’

“ ‘Mr. Sneyd was under a blood compulsion charm when he acted up in Potions on Wednesday. And most of the coney blood had been stolen from Severus’ stores. Also, Mr. Malfoy mentioned it when I was helping Severus deal with that situation.’

“ ‘Hmm, that explains rather more than I really wanted to hear. Would you be prepared to take the book off my hands? I would have great difficulty in explaining why I, of all people, had held on to it.’

“ ‘I’d very much like to know who gave a fourteen-year-old girl such a book. Does it have a book plate?’

“ ‘Minerva, I’m not prepared to even open it to look for that.’

“As he pulled it out of his pocket to pass it to Professor McGonagall another voice appeared, ‘What book would that be, dear? Shall I look after it for you? In my role as Education Advisor to the Minister, I am well able to manage strange magics.’

“The look on Professor McGonagall’s face was not pleasant, but they had to let Umbridge take it.”

I wondered if she realised that she had already stopped calling Umbridge ‘Professor’.

“That’s useful information, Ms. Granger,” said Justin. “I wonder how long it will take for Edgecombe to get it back.”

“What? She wouldn’t give that book to a fourteen-year-old. It’s dangerous.”

“Hermione,” interposed Neville, “where do you think Edgecombe would have got the book in the first place? The Edgecombes are a grey family, so there’s no way they’d have a copy in their library.”

“Oh,” was the quiet reply.

I decided I would ask the question that had been worrying at me. “Hermione, what happened to you over the summer?”

She got a shifty look into her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Something happened. Your magic is different and you’re making logical errors in class.”

She sighed, then went to say something but got stuck. She looked up pleadingly at us, “I can’t.”

“You mean that there is something preventing you?” asked Neville.

She nodded miserably.

He pulled out his wand and cast _reperio_ over her, then caught the scroll that appeared.

“Hermione, this is longer than it should be. I’m not sure what all of it means, but I’ll do some research …”

“I can do that,” she perked.

“Not this time. _I_ will do the research and will let you know the outcome as soon as I can. The bits I do understand indicate that you’ve been imbibing a loyalty potion for some years and that something broke recently.”

She went to respond, then looked terrified. “I can’t even indicate with my head a response to that,” she whispered. “What’s going on?”

“That’s what we’re going to find out.”

“And then, we’re going to do something about it,” Justin added firmly.

When we got back to our room, Malfoy was already there. We interrupted his studying to fill him in on what Hermione had told us about the book and what Neville had done.

“Oh, that kind of makes sense of something Professor Snape said to me just now. ‘There is altogether too much blood being thrown around this castle.’ Sneyd was potioned with blood; Tenggara was hidden with blood and we had to use blood to get the curse off him; Edgecombe’s been reading a book about blood magic; Umbridge is using blood quills; and now we find that Granger’s had blood used against her.”

“How do you mean?” I asked. “I mean about blood being used against Hermione?”

“The types of loyalty potion that are indicated on that,” and he waved his hand at the scroll, “are usually blood based.” Then he paused and grabbed the scroll again, then swore long and fluently something about the hellions of the sixth circle in the ninth canyon of the deep. “Longbottom, can I take a copy of this?”

Neville said, “sure. Why?”

“Geminum triplicatum.” And three copies appeared beside the original. “Stash that original in the safe spot in your trunk.” Then he shrugged on his robes, grabbed two copies, and rushed out saying, “Back down to Uncle Severus. I’ll see you at dinner.”

“What on earth?” asked Justin.

“Well, he understood something on the scroll that I didn’t.”

“Yeah, but to make him swear like that?”

We read through the copy together but were still no wiser at the end. Instead of worrying about we settled to do a bit of reading before dinner. Justin was working on the mind clearing book, while Neville had dug out his third-year potions textbook and was reading through the chapter that Draco had referred to on Wednesday. I borrowed Neville’s latest issue of _Herbology Today_ and was reading an article about the possible symbiotic links between woodlice and the genus _Coprosma_. It was a bit esoteric, but kind of interesting.

The dinner gong sounded, and we joined our housemates in trooping down to the Great Hall. Malfoy wasn’t there when we arrived, but joined us a few minutes later bursting with news that he couldn’t say a word of in the Great Hall. Snape and Louis Tenggara came in through the staff door and seated themselves between McGonagall and Hagrid. Umbridge was shooting them little glares, which they either ignored or didn’t notice.

“So, she _is_ homophobic,” muttered Michael Corner from the other side of Neville.

“Not a surprise really,” said Adeyemi. “Not after the way she treated Zabini on the first day, then her blatant racism towards anyone who doesn’t speak RP. Wouldn’t surprise me if she’s specist as well.”

“Specist?” asked Cotterill. “What’s that?”

“Humans are superior, and all other sentient species are only there to serve human needs.”

“Well, I know she’s anti Professor Lupin, solely because of his status,” I said. “She sees him as sub-human.”

“In that case, what does she make of Hagrid?” asked Stanton.

“Don’t know for sure yet, but it’s unlikely to be good.”

“Wait on,” said Justin, “where did the homophobic bit come from?”

“Oh, for goodness sake, Finch-Fletchley. Just look at those two, they’re so obvious. And she’s really not happy with them.”

“Which two?”

“Snape and that Asian guy beside him.”

“Oh, that’s Tenggara’s brother. He’s just come to visit his little brother and Snape offered to put him up rather than stay by himself in the guest quarters.”

One of the sixth-year girls snorted, “‘offered to put him up’? More like offered to shag him silly.”

There was a huff of laughter just as Dumbledore came in through the staff door, which seemed to startle him, as he paused, blinked a few times, then took his seat. The food promptly appeared, and the conversation moved off in various directions.

However, as we ate I could see that Louis’ eyes continually strayed back to Snape from wherever he had directed them.

After Dumbledore had dismissed us, Louis left Snape at the table and came down to where his brother was with his friends and, after gathering a few second-year students from the other tables, they headed out.

Looking back at the Head Table, I could see Umbridge talking at Snape, who was looking pissed off with her—or rather his neutral expression gradually rose into a sneer of contempt—before he simply walked off leaving her still mouthing.

We quickly turned away to hide our grins and headed for our room.

“Alright, Draco, spill,” ordered Justin.

“As well as the potionings, Granger has been cursed sometime recently by at least three different people. One of the curses I recognised on the scroll as being of Black family origin. Remember that my mother was a Black. That curse is intended to make her appear less intelligent in front of potential marriage partners.”

“She was helping clean out Sirius Black’s ancestral home over the summer,” I said.

“Yes, Uncle Severus thought that this one is most likely related to that. The second curse has a time-lag on it, so its full effect is not in place yet. However, it condemns her to accept the first thing she hears about a situation and then argue against everything else. I speculate that she upset someone with her usual know-it-all behaviours, possibly fae.

“The third curse is more insidious. Because of it, she believes herself to be inferior and must continually strive to overcome it. This last was cast using blood—her blood.”

“Oh, but how would someone get _her_ blood?”

“She’s been in the Hospital Wing often enough,” I said. “And, being raised by Muggles, she wouldn’t know not to let anyone have her blood.”

“How do we go about getting her released from these things?” asked Justin.

“Gringotts have got several cleansing rituals available—for a fee,” replied Malfoy. “But she will have to recognise that there is a problem and ask for the ritual to be performed, and the loyalty and other potions will prevent that recognition.”

“So that’s why you mentioned the hellions of the 54th order,” mused Neville.

“Yup.”

“Fifty-fourth order?” queried Justin.

“The sixth circle of the ninth canyon of the underworld is the source of Escherian-type argument. You know, the two-dimensional drawings of impossible three-dimensional objects.”

“So, true love’s kiss will also break the curses.”

Malfoy laughed. “Yes, but as her magic has changed, determining who her true affinity is with will be very difficult. It would be easier to have the casters raise the curses, either through them choosing to do so, or their deaths at her hands. And, as she has loyalty potions on board, it is very likely that at least one of the casters has been imbibing her. Back to the 54th order.”

We talked about it a bit longer, but couldn’t work out a way around things, so we read for a while before turning in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little later than usual, but Hermione's diagnostic scroll elbowed its way in at the last minute and demanded some air-time.
> 
> Friday 13th is not a bad-luck day in my experience, and as a consequence of my parents holding hands for the first time on a Friday 13th some years back, you are reading this today.


	30. An Ordinary Saturday

Saturday: 14 September

Justin woke us all at quarter to seven. Malfoy mumbled something rude and tried to turn over and go back to sleep.

“No, Draco. Unless, of course, you want Stagnant to come and find you still in bed and full of shit.”

He sat up quickly. “No, I really don’t want him using a goblin version of the elimination charm on me. Goblin bowel anatomy is different enough from humans for him to remove the wrong things.”

I was intrigued. “Tell me more.”

“Not right now, Potter. Otherwise we’ll still be in there when he gets here.”

The four of us used the loo in relays and had quick showers. Malfoy was about to spritz himself with cologne when Neville stopped him.

“Draco, goblins don’t appreciate musk related scents and all your colognes are musk-based. At least wait until he’s gone again.”

The mantle-clock chimed seven and, right on cue, Stagnant appeared in our room.

“Right then, rat-faces, let’s weigh and measure you and see what you’ve achieved this week. Have you all eliminated your waste?”

We were told to strip down to our underwear, lined up and then one-by-one a spell washed over us while a quill wrote rapidly on the other side of the room.

Stagnant scanned quickly over the files. “Hmm, hm-hm, ah. Good. Excellent. You two skinny runts have both added some mass, in fact half a kilo each, mostly on the thighs—that’s the squats doing that. You,” pointing to Neville, “have taken some off the soft bits in the middle and added it to your chest—once centimetre each way. And you have improved your cardiac fitness. It’s going to take you a bit more work than the others to see measurement and scale differences because of where we’re starting. Next week we’ll compare your 1RM with this week and see what gains you’ve made there.

“Right. Things to do. Gold to be made.”

And before we could bid him farewell, he was gone.

“Early breakfast?” I asked.

The others hummed agreement, and we got dressed and headed down. Andrew and his brother joined us, followed later by the other Second Year kids from his room and we got Louis to tell us of some of his travel experiences on the cruise ships.

At ten to nine I excused myself and headed down to the dungeons and Snape’s office.

“Good morning, sir,” I said as I closed the door behind me.

“Good morning, Potter. Before we focus on today’s subject, I thought to reassure you that Mr. Sneyd has recovered his faculties and will return to school tomorrow in time for dinner.”

“Thank you sir, that is good to hear.”

“Now, let us see how successful you have been in your meditation exercise. What image did you choose?”

“Flying. On my broom, I mean.”

He sighed, “I suppose it was too much to expect that you would choose something less frivolous. No matter. It is a start.”

“It was really good, sir. When I fall asleep while flying, I don’t have nightmares—or the other kind of dreams either.”

“What do you mean by the ‘other kind of dreams’?”

“Oh, the ones when you’re someone else and you find out later it really happened,” I said airily.

“Potter …” he broke off and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Give me an example,” he said in a tone that suggested he was going to regret this.

I ran through the last snake dream, then said, “that was the night I forget to clear my mind before going to sleep.”

“And how do you know that this happened?”

“Well, I don’t yet, but the first one was true.” I explained that one then said, “and Riddle and his beast _are_ living with the Malfoys at the moment.”

“And the beast is now invisible for all intents and purposes. If these dreams are not your nightmares, then what are?”

“The graveyard—where Riddle was resurrected. No matter what variant there is, Cedric always dies right in front of me with that particular shade of green spell-light.” I reached a hand up to scrub my eyes before I started crying.

“I think I’m going to regret asking my next question, however … What support did you receive during the summer for this?”

I blinked up at him. “Support?”

“Like a mind-healer, or someone you could talk through your memories with.”

“Nothing like that, sir. I told Ron and Hermione what happened while we were in the train going home, but …”

He sighed, “so, no support at all.”

There was a long pause.

“Let us move on to testing your mind clearance. Start your meditation with your eyes open.”

I nodded, then imagined myself on my broom again, going through the Seeker evolutions. Suddenly I felt another presence in my mind. I shook my head like it was an insect buzzing in my ear and imagined batting it away. It dodged and came back round. I batted at it again, then I wasn’t on my broom anymore but was running from Dudley and Piers across that park so that I didn’t get bashed up again. Then I was sitting on the floor in Snape’s office.

“A reasonable first attempt, Potter.”

High praise from one who never gives compliments.

“What did I do wrong, sir?”

He quirked a look at me.

“Well, it’s the way I learn best, sir. Try, find out my mistakes, then try again. Rinse and repeat until I’ve got it. But I understand my mistakes best when they’re explained to me, rather than simple trial and error.”

“Hmm. This is a level of self-awareness I didn’t know you possessed, Potter. Most students of your age do not have any idea of how they learn. Ms. Granger aside, of course.”

I laughed. “Uh, Hermione doesn’t know how she learns best. She thinks she learns from reading lots and following a colour-coded revision timetable. That’s not true, that’s how she reinforces what she’s already learnt.”

He suppressed a smile and said, “be that as it may, we need to focus on you. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“So, …”

“You hadn’t started to occlude, so you couldn’t block me out. What I was doing was testing the strength of your imagery, which I believe will do you very well for your first layer—despite my initial misgivings. I also entered when you were in the initial stage of setting up. This is always the weakest point for any Occlumens. As a result, you were still vulnerable.”

“Okay, so how do I become non-vulnerable?” He let me think about it for a while. “Oh, I need to somehow never be in the position of setting up—which means I need to always be running the image.”

“Well, wonder of wonders. There is a mind in there that is capable of thinking.”

I nearly flipped him the bird but caught myself in time. The outcome of that would not be good.

“How do I do that? I mean, doesn’t it take a lot of concentration?”

“To begin with, yes. But after a while it becomes automatic, much like maintaining that glamour you’ve always got in place.”

“How …”

“How do I know? Several reasons, Potter. I am after all a teacher of teenagers. It is also in my best interests to keep aware of any falsity around me. That way I can protect myself from unexpected attacks.”

I nodded in acknowledgement of that. “But, sir, you don’t _see_ magic like Justin or Professor McGonagall, though?”

“No, to my relief in many ways. It’s not the wonderful talent that it might appear to be. However, on Wednesday I did feel your shield go up before I heard you say the spell. And I did know instantly that it was your magic and not that of anyone else in that area of the classroom.

“Now, this week you are going to concentrate on keeping your flying image going as much as possible. Whenever you notice that it’s not there, put it back.”

He took a deep breath. “We have just enough time for me to tell you about your mother and the swings at the park.”

~~

After lunch Malfoy and I grabbed our Quidditch gear and headed up to the Seventh Floor. The Gryffindor and Hufflepuff teams had the pitch booked for the afternoon, and we couldn’t practice on the Sunday this weekend because of going to the bank.

I did the usual pacing up and down, this time thinking about needing a Ravenclaw Quidditch practice place. The same doors as Thursday evening appeared and, leaving them open, we headed into the foyer area. This time there was only door, labelled ‘Changing Room.’

“That must be so Bradley is catered for,” I said. “I wasn’t thinking about it specifically, but …”

“Hogwarts is sentient, you know. She knows about things like that.”

The others started arriving while Malfoy and I were changing robes and a few minutes later I looked around, doing a head count.

“That’s all of us,” I said. “I’ll just go and shut the outer door, so that no one else can come in.”

Roger nodded as he pulled on his riding boots.

We then spent some time doing general warm up drills, then Roger got us all doing the specific drills for the various positions.

“I want you all to understand what your teammates face when they play. If you don’t know what the Beaters are thinking about, for example, and you’re playing as a Chaser, then you’ll get in their way and the team will be worse off as a result.”

“This is so different from the way Wood has us training,” I murmured to Malfoy after a while.

“Yeah, and Flint. This is actually going to make us a team. Who’s captain of Gryffindor this year?”

“Katie Bell. She didn’t really want it and was hoping I’d take it on, but …”

“Keep focused, guys,” called Roger, “it’s Beater drills next.”

He had us all flying with both hands on the broom to begin with, then would randomly call out “left” or “right”. We had to take that hand off the broom and continue to fly one-handed. Occasionally he called “none” and we had keep going with both hands well away from the handle.

I’m not sure how much you know about flying on brooms, but this is the most difficult part of standard flying. It’s actually harder to do than riding a bicycle without holding the handlebars. This is particularly so with Quidditch brooms as the standard stabilisers are not used and the gyro device that normally sits between the footrests just in front of the leading edge of the binding string is moved back so that it’s behind the second flare of bristles. This makes the broom more manoeuvrable when playing, but it also means that keeping upright usually means that at least one hand is needed on the broom-handle. It’s very easy to roll over and let gravity act when there isn’t a controlling hand on the broom.

I knew that, as a Beater, there were going to be times when I needed to swing the bat while having the other arm in the air to help with the follow through, so maintaining position was going to need to be second nature.

Roger took us through a couple of other drills, then moved onto Seeker drills. He started with some evolutions that were very familiar and Malfoy, Cho and I flew them easily. Star was having problems with the second one, so I waved the others to go on to do the later ones and I dropped back and coached her through it.

“Left bank, spin up, twist across to the left, and again. Now drop ten metres and straighten up. Roll over to the right, and twist.

“That was better, try it again, but you don’t want to lose too much height in the left twists, otherwise you’ll run out of space. The last thing a Seeker wants is to get trapped between the ground and a melee overhead.”

She grinned, “or between a dragon’s jaws?”

I faked offended dignity, “that was a special occasion.” Then I laughed.

We ran it together a couple more times, then Roger called us over for a new drill that he’d picked up from _The Sneaky Seeker_, who is a regular columnist in _Quidditch Weekly_. This involved running some conjured hoops in an increasingly complex pattern. Star aced it and Bradley struggled with it. The rest of us fell somewhere in between, with the three experienced Seekers close behind Star.

Then a bludger was set to flit around the hoops and we had to run the pattern again while avoiding it. Star’s small size was a definite advantage, but in the end I did the best—probably because of my experience at avoiding rogue bludgers.

Then minutes later Roger called the practice to an end. “Don’t want to wear you guys out this early in the year. I don’t believe that over-practicing is a good thing. In the end, we’re doing this to enjoy ourselves.”

A team hug followed and we headed out for a shower and then back to working on assignments and those blasted journal papers for Snape and Sprout.


	31. The Reading of the Wills

Sunday 15 September

Justin and I had agreed that we’d get up an hour later than usual for our run on Sunday morning. As we were moving around quietly Neville poked his head out of his curtains.

“May I join you today?”

“Of course.”

The three of us trooped upstairs and I asked for somewhere to run. This time, instead of a stadium, the room gave us a large outdoor grassy area with banks covered with flowers and a pathway that went through it.

“Oh. This is familiar, but I can’t quite place it,” said Justin.

“It’s the Wisley Botanic Garden,” replied Neville. “It’s near our Manor. Gran’s brought me here quite a few times.”

We started running at a steady jogging pace along the path accompanied by the sounds of thrushes and robins calling to each other in the early morning light.

We had the place to ourselves, of course, and Neville showed us all sorts of interesting spots around the garden. We ran down a spiralling path into the bowl and came up another path that seemed to twist around on itself. When we came around one corner of the flower beds, we could see the old house that the gardens were based around. It felt loved and cared for, and there was a peace here that would have been impossible to find anywhere else in the castle, or probably in the real version of Wisley when the day-trippers turn up.

After a while I cast a tempus. We’d been jogging for half an hour and I felt fine.

“How you doing Neville?”

“Good, although I don’t think I could run any faster at the moment.”

“I think you could, but we won’t push it today,” replied Justin. And we continued on for another ten minutes.

We found a drinking fountain and took turns before throwing ourselves down on the grass beside it for a while.

“I wonder how far we’ve run this morning,” I said.

A digital readout appeared above us. “You have gone 5.4778 km.”

“Well, that’s precise,” commented Justin. “Thank you, Hogwarts.”

The readout winked out of existence.

“Time to head back, I think,” said Neville. “Breakfast and then finish off that stinksap paper before we go to Gringott’s.”

We got back up on our feet, and jogged across the grass to an arbour with an Exit sign floating above it.

~~

The four of us arrived in Professor Flitwick’s Office at quarter to two. He greeted us happily and passed the jar of floo powder to us, while locking the door.

“Mr. Malfoy, if you would go first, then the others and I’ll come last. I want to lock my Floo while I’m away.”

Malfoy threw down his powder and called out, “Gringotts, Shankford’s office.” The flames turned green and he whirled away.

Neville followed suit with me close behind. I tripped as usual when I came out of the fireplace into Shankford’s office, but Neville had been expecting it, so I didn’t fall over. A couple of moments later Justin arrived, followed by Flitwick.

While we dusted ourselves off, we were greeted by Griphook. “Welcome once again to Gringott’s, gentlemen. Shankford will be with us in a moment. He wanted to personally double-check the arrangements for today’s meetings.”

The small very ornate clock on the mantlepiece gently chimed twice, a door behind the large desk that took pride of place down one end of the room opened and Shankford entered.

“Griphook, where are my spectacles?”

I grinned widely at him both in greeting and in amusement, for even I could see that they were on a chain around his neck and were bouncing against his chest as he came across the office.

“They are on you, sir. Around your neck.”

“What? Oh.” He lifted them up and perched them on his nose while grinning at us. “I see the humour in your faces, don’t think I don’t, but I’m all of a fluster. Just give me a moment to recover my stability, then we’ll go into the room and await the arrival of the last couple of people.”

A minute later we were trooping into the room. Professor McGonagall was already there chatting with Madam Hooch and Sirius. Remus was talking with an elderly wizard who I didn’t recognise, but smiled at us when we came in. He looked a lot better than he did when I last saw him a couple of weeks previously just after the full moon.

A knock came at a door opposite to the one we’d come through and a goblin in a messenger uniform came in and announced, “Madam Malfoy and Professor Snape.”

The two entered the room and the goblin left shutting the door behind him.

“Ah good, we are all here now, so we shall begin,” said Shankford pompously. “Would you all please take your seats?”

The four of us and Griphook had been placed on one side, while all the adults were on the other. Neville and Justin carefully placed themselves on either side of me and Malfoy and Griphook sat behind me.

I saw with a sigh that Snape and Sirius sat as far away from each other as possible. Well, what happened now was either going to break my relationship with Sirius completely or it would stay alive. It all depended on how he reacted.

“You are all called to Gringott’s today because it has been discovered that two wills that should have been opened nearly 14 years ago were suppressed. Namely those of James and Lily Potter.”

“Suppressed? By whom?” asked Snape.

“By someone who believes that the magical worlds should look up to and be beholden to them for their past glorious deeds.”

And if ever a goblin’s voice was infused by bitter sarcasm, it was at that moment.

The look on McGonagall’s and Hooch’s faces almost matched Snape’s accustomed sneer, while Mrs. Malfoy’s went into the look of bland interest that Draco had mastered. I now understood that it really meant that they thought very little of the person under discussion. It was Remus and Sirius who took on dumbfounded looks. Then I suppose this was a surprise to them, but not to the others.

“Mr. Potter, if you would please state your desire.”

“It is my wish, having reached my first majority, that the wills of my parents are read. Would you please start with my father’s?”

My voice sounded firm to me, even though I knew and dreaded what was to come from hearing it again.

When Dad’s voice sounded out, I could see Sirius gasp.

I don’t need to repeat it all again here word for word, as it was only back in Chapter 15 that I wrote it all out.

Remus nearly broke down when he heard how much Dad left him, then he and Sirius chuckled when Sirius’ legacy of 20,000 was announced. Everyone’s eyes hardened at the mention of Pettigrew and all were startled by the idea of a vial of farts for Dumbledore. Sirius, of course, guffawed.

Their faces went to neutral as the concluding paragraphs leaving me everything else were said. Then came the crunch and I steeled myself for the reactions.

> “Note that nothing, absolutely nothing from my estates, either the Potter or my personal, shall be used for the purposes of the Order of the Phoenix.”

I signalled Shankford, and he paused the reading.

“But James was a supporter of the Order, wasn’t he Moony?”

“Well, I thought so, but something must have happened to cause him to change his mind.”

McGonagall and Snape were obviously equally surprised. “But, Albus told us …” she began, then she closed her mouth with a snap, before reopening it to say, “no wonder he wanted to suppress it.”

“Shall we continue?” asked Snape.

I nodded and Shankford restarted it.

> “Should we have both deceased before Harry reaches his first majority, then the guardian list for Harry is:
> 
> “1. Alice Longbottom  
“2. Frank Longbottom  
“3. Severus Snape  
“4. Minerva McGonagall  
“5. Marlene McKinnon  
“6. Rolanda Hooch
> 
> “Under no circumstances must Albus Dumbledore or Petunia Dursley be allowed anywhere near my son’s life. Hopefully by the time he reaches Hogwarts, Dumbledore will have been found out and forced to leave the school.”

There was a pause for a good five seconds before there was an explosion of talk, and cutting through it was Sirius’ voice, “Snivellus? Snivellus? He actually put him in the guardian list and not me? What was he thinking about?”

I raised my hand in a stop sign and waited until there was silence and they were all looking at me.

“It’s not important who my father put in the guardian list, because it doesn’t apply anymore. Remember the words ‘before his first majority.’” And I put emphasis on ‘first.’ “What is important is, what had Dumbledore done to generate that reaction from my father two weeks before his death? Do any of you know?”

Just like last week when I asked the same question, there were no answers forthcoming.

I sighed, then said, “well, I’m going to need to know soon, so if you have any ideas please let me know. Let’s move on to my mother’s will now.”

There were a few more gasps this time when her voice sounded out.

Mrs. Malfoy looked surprised when she heard about the Herbology collections, while Remus nodded his acquiescence when it come to the Defence stuff. It was Professor McGonagall who was startled when the Potions was given to her and the Charms to Snape.

I got Shankford to pause the reading and addressed myself to Professor Snape, “sir, I presume that this division makes sense to you. I think I understand why my mother has done this, but could you please explain?”

“Certainly, Mr. Potter. Your mother had her own unique way of looking at magic, which is why her notes will be very valuable to those she has chosen to pass them on to. However, both Professor Flitwick and I are too close to our subjects and we would not benefit as much from her thinking in those areas, as opposed to the opposite. As it’s many years since Professor McGonagall had to brew any potions other than her one of her special teas, she too will bring a different perspective to the Potions work.

“At the same time, Mrs. Malfoy has a love of gardening, but has got a little out of touch with the latest Herbology research, so her thinking won’t be clouded by that. And, when it came to Defence, only Remus Lupin could understand even half of what your mother was thinking and saying in that area.”

“Thank you, Professor. Mr. Shankford, sir, might we hear the rest?”

I let the rest play. Just as had happened last week, there was a period of silence.

I turned to Sirius. “Sirius, you have some explaining to do. What you say now will dictate how much I am willing to have you in my life. You knew that I was not to be with the Dursleys and yet you allowed me to return there for the last two summers after you escaped. Why?”

“Well, Pup, it was a bit difficult to stop it from Azkaban …”

I cut across him, “I didn’t ask about those 12 years. That much is obvious. But what about the summer just passed and the one before?”

“I, I, I forgot?” he said lamely.

“You forgot? Despite my telling you about them; despite my pleading with you to find a way to stop me from having to go back; you forgot? Try again.”

I felt the magic of the three guys moving in around me and grounding me.

“Well, Pup. Harry, I’m a fugitive on the run, what could I do against the Minister and Dumbledore?”

“So, despite your opinion of the Minister as a, and let me quote, ‘a spineless waste of space who couldn’t fight his way past a pair of lazy flobberworms’; despite the fact that you frequently boast that you possess a silver tongue that can charm anyone, or that all you have to do is wiggle your arse in the right way and you can persuade anyone to do anything for you; you were unable to point out to either of those old poofs that they were going against the explicit instructions of my mother?”

“But Prongslet …”

“No!” I shouted. And all four of us rose to our feet together. “I am not James any more than I am Lily. Sirius, for the moment we are finished, finito, through, concluded, terminated, zakonchennyy, history, over and done with. Griphook will be in touch about the legacy. Go back to Grimmauld Place. Go back to your miserable existence. Go back to Kreacher. Do not try and communicate with me before I reach my second majority. Farewell.”

I sat back down and waited.

“Harry …”

“No, Remus. He has chosen to not have me in his life and I therefore reciprocate. I’m not one to go dangling after someone like, like … like Lavender Brown desperate to get a date with any male that will look at her. I’m not so affection starved that I will just roll over for anyone who shows me any attention.”

Sirius slunk out of the room with a sigh and gently shut the door behind him.

“Now, the 50 feet provision has already been enacted. We are trying to make sure that we sit far enough up the Ravenclaw table to allow the Headmaster to attend meals, but because we are Fifth-Year students we can’t always manage that as the Senior Students do enjoy their prerogatives.”

Madam Hooch roared with laughter. “So that’s why he keeps getting stuck when going to the lectern or can’t get into breakfast. I had wondered what magic was doing that, given Minerva could do it with ease.”

McGonagall and Snape’s face also took on looks of understanding.

“Aha, that’s what your cryptic comments have been angling at, Filius. I can see why you couldn’t say anything more though.”

“Of course, I am now unable to respond positively to any of his requests to have a little chat in his office. That is, not without hurting him considerably.”

I nodded to Shankford, who deftly called the meeting to an end and shuffled Remus out of the door. He returned to us and then started the second meeting.


	32. Who's your guardian, Harry?

[End of last chapter:

I nodded to Shankford, who deftly called the meeting to an end and shuffled Remus out of the door. He returned to us and then started the second meeting.]

“Now, it is Heir Potter’s desire that he should discuss the matter of guardianship with the four people mentioned in his parents’ wills who are still able to provide that guardianship. Before we do that, however, may I introduce the Head of the Department of Underage Magic, Maurice Bowen. Should this discussion not bear fruit, then he will be Heir Potter’s guardian.”

“Mrs. Malfoy,” I said. “Would you please come and take a seat in the front row? Now, although my parents only stipulated guardians before I reached my first majority, I am in need of guidance and advice. And saving your presence, Mr. Bowen, I would prefer it to be from someone that I know my parents had approved.”

“Quite understandable, young man. I would feel the same in your situation and it is many years since anyone in my position has needed to take on guardianship. The last young person who needed such was Aberforth Dumbledore.”

“The Bank has kindly moved Griphook to be solely involved with the Potter financial interests, but as highly as I regard Griphook he can’t legally be my guardian nor can he mentor me in matters of the Wizarding world. There is precedent for this situation, in that I can choose a guardian from among you. For each of you there are advantages and disadvantages.

“For Professor Snape, there is the problem of our acrimonious relationship until this point. This is however mitigated by the fact that we are both male and there some matters that I would feel distinctly uncomfortable discussing with a woman.

“Professor McGonagall has been my head of house for four years and so possibly knows me better than any of you. This is, of course, both benefit and detriment.

“Madam Hooch, we barely know each other despite four years of flying, so I have no idea why my parents chose you. However, I’m sure they had their very good reasons.

“And Mrs. Malfoy, right now the situation in your home makes things very difficult and my past history with members of your family does not help. However, I do see the way you have raised your son, and I see a lot of benefit in a link to you.”

As I said these things, each was acknowledged.

“And therefore, I choose all four of you to be my guardian and mentor. You will counterbalance each other well, particularly as there is one dark, one light, one grey and one muggleborn amongst you. Even as there is such a mix with me and these guys around me.”

“If I may be permitted a degree of curiosity,” started Snape. “What has sparked all of this off?”

It was Neville who replied, “It started last Friday with a gym workout supervised by Professor Flitwick’s half-brother. As part of working out our fitness levels we each did a blood parchment test. The results of Harry’s caused the goblins to investigate further.”

“Shankford, do you have the parchment with you?”

He nodded.

“Would you please pass it to my named guardians to read?”

There was silence in the room while the four of them took turns to read the document.

Madam Hooch was first, and she had to shut her eyes and swallow hard a couple of times, then passed it quickly to Mrs. Malfoy. “I can’t read any more of that. As it is, I’ll have bad dreams tonight. How could anyone, …” and she broke off.

Mrs. Malfoy skimmed rapidly through it then looked up at me with such a look that I almost burst with joy that someone could care that much. I could feel Draco getting antsy behind me, he wanted to stay and support me and at the same time he wanted to comfort his mother.

“Go to her, Malfoy,” I said in a low voice. “She needs you more right now than I do.”

He needed no second bidding and went across to her and held her. In the meantime, Snape was reading intently, his eyebrows rising higher the further through he got. He suddenly thrust it at Professor McGonagall.

“I’ve read enough to know that something is very rotten in all of this, and that that something is not you Harry.”

He thrust his hand into one of his inner pockets and produced several vials. He handed them out to Hooch, Mrs. Malfoy, and Professor McGonagall. I shook my head when he offered me one. “Not yet, sir. I need to do this unclouded—if I can.”

“You’re a braver man than I, in that case.” And he took one himself.

“How are you still standing, Harry?” That was Professor McGonagall. “I simply don’t understand how you can even lift your wand, let alone do magic.”

“Survivors of abuse can do amazing things, Professor. It’s a big part of what makes us strong. However, it’s only because of the support of Justin, Neville and Draco that I can manage to be calm today. Professor Snape will be able to tell you how close I am to losing it.”

“Harry,” it was Mrs. Malfoy. “May we have copies of this made?”

I shook my head firmly. “No, that must remain the only copy, and it must remain within these rooms. It is too risky to have any other copy around. You know what my adoring public is like right now. If the Ministry can find any further reason to call my sanity into question, then we are all lost. If any of this was to leak to the Press or the Ministry, then you can kiss the Magic World goodbye, because I won’t be around to fulfil my destiny—whatever the hell it actually is.”

Shankford spoke up, “I have to agree with Mr. Potter on this. However, can I reassure you that the Bank is in the process of organising, at our cost, a complete health check and restoration for Mr. Potter.”

“And now,” said Justin, “there are a few more matters in relation to Harry to be dealt with. Draco?”

Malfoy stood from where he was beside his mother, nodded to Justin and pulled out a scroll from his inner pocket. He tapped it with his wand, “Gemino temporarium. These copies will vanish in 45 minutes.” And he passed out a copy to all the adults, including Mr. Bowen. “This is a list that Justin, Neville & I have compiled over the past two weeks. The items are derived from things that Harry has let fall in conversations.”

There was silence for a few minutes before Snape sighed, “Mr. Potter, I owe you a very big apology. I believed the Headmaster when he said that you were somewhere safe, that you were being cared for as if you were a son of the house. Maurice,” and he turned to Mr. Bowen, “we must work to make sure that this sort of thing never happens again to another orphan.”

“I couldn’t agree more, Severus. Unfortunately, my predecessor in this role was somewhat spineless and could not stand up to Dumbledore—particularly when he’s in full legilimency flight. I’m a natural Occlumens, so I’m proof against him in that area. Which, when I think about it, is probably why he tried to oppose my appointment to the Department. I do now require that there are interviews twice a year with all orphans without their guardians being present.” He grimaced at me. “I’m sorry Mr. Potter, but that rule came in three years ago and your first majority must have already kicked in and the magic recognised that you were out of your guardianship.”

“But Harry was only twelve three years ago. I thought first majority was at thirteen,” said Justin.

“For most boys it is, but some mature earlier and therefore it happens at twelve.”

Madam Hooch spoke gently, “Harry, there’s a common reason for early maturation, but it’s something that’s not mentioned on either of the documents. Have you ever been sexually abused?”

Well, there it was. The question I dreaded most. The question that would expose the deepest parts of me to a group of people who I desperately wanted to care for me in ways that no one ever had.

I looked up at her and said, “yes. But I can’t talk about it.”

Malfoy left his mother and the three guys gathered me into a group hug.

“We’ll get you through this, Harry.”

I felt an increased presence around me and realised that the four adults had joined in surrounding me as well—yes, even prickly Severus Snape.

There was silence in the room for a while and I found myself resting peacefully for once in the caring arms of other people. I thought, isn’t this the moment when I should burst into tears? However, rather than sorry for myself, I felt a bubble of exultant joy.

The others began to peel away and resumed their seats.

“I’ve seen enough,” came the voice of Mr. Bowen, “to know that I am absolutely not needed here anymore. I congratulate you, Mr. Potter, on finding at last such a group of people who I am sure will care for you and look after you beyond the best of their abilities. But please do try not to come to the attention of my office anymore. Fighting off dementors is one thing; but blowing up your aunt is quite another.”

He smiled at me to show it was a joke, then bowed himself out of the room.

“Professors, Mrs. Malfoy? Do you accept this charge?” It was Shankford.

They each gave a verbal assent.

“Cousin Filius, how long do the young men have before they must return to Hogwarts?”

“Forty-five minutes.”

“Very well, we shall leave the eight of you alone here for half-an-hour.” With that the two goblins and Professor Flitwick went into Shankford’s office.

I turned back to the four adults who were now my guardian. “I do very much appreciate your willingness to do this. There are a few matters that we would appreciate some advice on now.

“Griphook has kindly given me a listing of the contents of the two vaults that my parents have granted me access to. Mrs. Malfoy, you’re the one with the most experience in managing House Elves …”

“Oh Harry, please call me Narcissa. Or if that’s too uncomfortable, then Aunt Narcissa.”

I shook my head. “No, that’s not a good idea right now. For your safety I need to keep calling you by your titles. If I forget myself and say ‘Draco’ in the middle of Hogsmeade instead of calling him Malfoy, it won’t matter. But if I refer to you as Aunt Narcissa and it gets back to Tom Riddle, then he will crucio you for not telling him about your relationship with me.

“As for the three Hogwarts’ staff, if I start calling you by anything other than Professor, then you will be open to accusations of favouritism. And Professor Snape will also be subject to Tom’s wrath. For all the Ministry’s pretence and the _Daily Prophet_’s collusion otherwise, Tom is real and is a real problem.”

“Harry. Who do you mean when you say ‘Tom’?” asked Madam Hooch.

“I mean the one who killed my parents. I refuse to use stupid circumlocutions like ‘he-who-shall-never-be-mentioned’, or ‘you know who’, and if I use his chosen invented name, then it hurts anyone who is linked via a mark. He was named Tom by his mother and his father’s family name is Riddle, so …”

“So, he _is_ a half-blood,” exclaimed Professor McGonagall. “Albus hinted at it a few times but wouldn’t come out and actually say it.”

“Anyway,” I said, “I still need some advice about how to manage this list of deeds of ownership—particularly the last one mentioned. How is it possible in this modern day and age to own people? House elves, I can kind of get. The symbiosis between the House Elf and their human is very important and vital for the health of the House Elf. However, I don’t understand how I can own Dragonfolk, Fae folk, and particularly humans.”

I turned my face to Mrs. Malfoy, even as I heard gasps from Hooch and McGonagall. Snape just looked a little blanker.

“All three are certainly unusual, but not unheard of. As to what to do about it, it really depends on why they have been bonded to your family—and, of course, on who they are.”

“How do I go about finding that out?”

“Well, you’ll need to access the deeds, Harry.”

“Will they say why as well as who?”

“Most likely.”

“If I were to get Griphook to send me copies of the deeds, would you be able to come to Hogwarts for the Quidditch match and then spend a little time visiting your son?”

“I can certainly arrange to do so. Alternatively, I could meet you in Hogsmeade.”

“No, that would be too public and would open up too many problems. Besides, I’m not sure if I’ll be allowed to go to Hogsmeade. Sirius hasn’t signed my permission slip this year, and the Headmaster could use any of your signatures against you. He’s rather too inclined to run to the _Daily Prophet_ with every little story about me.

“Which reminds me, the somewhat fanciful books and stories that were written about me while I was with the Dursleys—who is likely to have authorised them? Can I sue them for a large share of the profits?”

“You mean the highly accurate accounts of how you grew up a hero, triumphing over evil, fighting dragons and keeping baddies away,” snarked Professor Snape.

“Yeah, those,” I said with a grin. “There’s also the faster than a speeding bullet, leaping tall buildings with a single bound and making grown men cry when I turn my angelic face at them.”

He snorted at that and Justin and Hooch laughed, while the others just looked bemused.

“Some of them were unauthorised and we can sue their authors and publishers. However, some were authorised by your magical guardian.”

“The one who isn’t really and has no rights over me whatsoever,” I sighed.

“Yes,” said Professor McGonagall. “However, we’ll set things in motion. We’ll ask Griphook to help with that. He will also be able to provide the contacts for your family lawyers.”

“Mother,” asked Malfoy, “is Healer Augenarzt still practicing?”

“I believe so. Why?”

“Potter has never seen an optometrist and those spectacles he’s wearing are some random pair that he’s had since he was seven.”

Snape did the nose-pinching thing again. “Why have you never said anything, Mr. Potter?”

“What do you mean? It’s not until I’ve been rooming with these guys that I’ve discovered that not everyone sees the world as washes of colour.”

“I’ll contact Wilhelmina and see if she would be prepared to come to Hogwarts to do your vision testing during the week,” offered McGonagall.

“Yes, that would be best, Minerva. We don’t have time right now and the sooner we can rectify this, the better.”

“Oh, I’ve just remembered. Mrs. Malfoy, did you leave your wand in the conservatory the other day, and then send Mimsy to find it?”

“Why, yes, I did. But how can you have known that?”

I waved the question off. “That’s not so important right now. Have you seen Nagini since then?”

She paused, then said, “now that you mention it, no.”

“She used your wand to make her skin like a chameleon’s. For all purposes, she is invisible. Please make sure that she’s not around when you need to have a private conversation. She understands English and French as well as Turkish and Parseltongue.”

“And Mother, please don’t be careless with your wand again. You know how easy it was for me to get hold of it when I was younger.”

The door to Shankford’s office opened at that point and he along with Griphook and Flitwick came back into the room. They were accompanied by another goblin who was introduced as Steinmaus.

There was something about this new goblin that made me say, “Gut getroffen, Frau Steinmaus. Mögen die Kinder Ihrer Kinder gesund, reich und weise sein.“ [Well met, Madam Steinmaus. May your children’s children be healthy, wealthy and wise.]

She responded with a grating laugh, “you are a vizard unusual. But you have ze right of it. I am, as you call it in English, a gobliness. And ich bin aus Deutschland.”

“Steinmaus has been tasked with co-ordinating all aspects of Heir Potter’s health checks and healing.”

She was given the parchment to read and after a couple of minutes I was startled to hear her mutter, “verdammte Wichser mit Fotzengesicht.” Then she let drop Stagnant’s swear word.

“Right. Zere is a lot of vork ahead of us to sort this verdammte mess out. You vill need many potions and much time vis a mind-healer. Ja, ja, I know you haf to study as vell, but hafing a body vis vich to study is useful, nein?”

“Frau Steinmaus, please let me know which potions will be needed. I will be happy to prepare and supply them.”

“Ja, ja, Master Severus. I know of your vork. Some will be expensive to make, so you vill send all ze accounts to Griphook, ja?”

“Yes, Master Severus,” said Shankford. “The bank is covering all costs of restoring Heir Potter’s health.”

Snape nodded his agreement.

“We have thought to contact Healer Augenarzt to come to the school during this week to do the vision testing,” said Mrs. Malfoy.

“Ja, dat is excellent. She is sehr gut. She can send her bill to Griphook also.”

“Now gentlemen, we need to make our way back to Hogwarts,” said Flitwick. “Make your farewells.”

I thanked the goblins with appropriate levels of bloodthirstiness and farewelled them with hopes for financial gain beyond the dreams of Warren Buffett.

The four professors side-along apparated us back to the gates of Hogwarts and left us to stroll back through the grounds chatting quietly. The feelings of contentment were too good to last, and as we entered through the main doors a “hem hem” was heard.

“And just where have you four children been?”

I was so tempted to quote the nursery-rhyme and say, “we’ve been to London to visit the Queen,” but I held my tongue.

“Oh, out and about,” said Justin vaguely.

“I wished to find you earlier,” she said looking directly at me, “but you were nowhere to be found. The doors hadn’t registered your departure through them, and the house elves were unable to locate you anywhere in the castle or on the grounds.”

“What did you need us for, Professor?” asked Neville.

“Oh, nothing in particular. I just had time this afternoon to have that cup of tea with you.”

I felt an internal shudder pass through me and wondered how we were going to get out of the current situation—and how we were going to avoid that cup of tea in the future.

“Good evening, Professor,” came from behind us. “Is there a problem?”

“Not a problem, as such, Professor Snape. But these boys seem to be unwilling to explain where they have been for the afternoon. The house elves were unable to locate them.”

“Well, as they were in the Forbidden Forest with me on a collecting trip, they were quite safe. And the house elves are not able to enter many parts of the Forest.”

“And the fact that the Doors did not register their departure from the castle?”

“There are multiple exits from the castle, Dolores. Did you check all of them?” Then turning to us he said, “thank you Draco for your assistance. Hopefully something of what we did and discussed will have sunk into the brains of the dunderheads who share your Chambers.”

He sneered at Neville and me and departed in the direction of the dungeons with a large basket in each hand. Quite when he had conjured them, I wasn’t sure, but wasn’t going to enquire. He’d certainly rescued us from Umbridge, for the time being.

We left quickly in the direction of our room, not wanting to give her any more excuse to talk to us.

~~

When we headed to bed that night my mind was still full of the events and discussions of the afternoon and I found clearing it to be challenging. I fell asleep going over the discussion with Sirius rather than flying.

A rabbit lolloped in front of me as I slid through the long grass. I thought about catching it but decided that it would keep for another time—there was more exciting prey around—and taking small animals who couldn’t even see me didn’t have the thrill that it used to.

I slid on, undulating over the variations in the ground caused by the creation and destruction of garden trends over the centuries. I spotted the planned prey standing in the distance, silhouetted against the night sky as he watched out over the still quiet landscape from the top of the ha-ha. I went up behind him, reached up with the tip of my tail and tapped him on the left shoulder. He spun around startled but saw nothing. I raised my head so that it was above him, then used my new special power to suddenly manifest. He cried out once, took a step backwards to get away from me and fell the four metres, screaming as he went. A thud was heard, then silence returned to the night as I turned to slide away invisible once more.

I woke briefly and turned over. There was something I was missing, but I couldn’t think what it was before sleep claimed me again.

I was standing somewhere in the dark feeling wrung out. I had no idea where I was, then as my eyes got used to the darkness, I made out that I was in a corridor. I put a hand out and touched a wall beside me and began to walk along the corridor, carefully putting one foot in front of the other until I came to a large black door. As soon as I touched the door it lit up with a flash and I found myself standing in the graveyard just in time to hear the words “kill the spare”.

Green spell light spat across in front of me and Cedric fell beside me. Wormtail cackled. The thing splashed into the cauldron. My arm was cut. Snakeface rose up. “Kiss me, Harry.” “I don’t think so, Tom.”

Routine nightmare, really. Still horrible though.

“Harry Potter, you will duel me. Each refusal will mean the death of someone you care about.”

I hesitated, then green spell light crossed in front of me and Cedric died at my feet.

“You really are a wanking bastard, aren’t you Tom?”

More green light and Cedric died again, and again, and again.

“Kiss me, Harry. Duel me, Harry.” Green light, Cedric down again.

I was stuck in a loop. In _Groundhog Day_ it was a whole day. This was about five minutes. By the twentieth time I was screaming the rudest swears I knew at him.

“Harry, Harry,” Neville’s voice. Then a bubble of blue light spun up around me, pulling away from Riddle. I gasped, “not Cedric,” then found myself sprawled across my bed in a tangle of sheets, oversized pyjamas, and sweat.

Neville and Dobby were beside me on one side and Justin and Malfoy on the other.

“Ah Potter. You might want to adjust yourself.”

“Wha?”

Malfoy sort of bobbed his head towards my middle and realised that the fly on my pyjamas had fallen open and my equipment was on full display. I reached down and adjusted things, then explained what I had seen.

“What time is it?”

“Just after one,” said Neville.

“Take half of a calming draught,” said Malfoy. “Then set up your mindscape.”

“Sorry for waking you all, but thanks for being there.”

I got out of bed and Dobby helped me put it back to rights and then I obeyed Malfoy’s instructions while the others went back to their beds.


	33. The Fears of a Fanged Geranium

Monday 16 September

When I woke it was to Neville shaking me awake.

“Harry, wake up. It’s time for breakfast.”

I peered groggily at him before realising what he’d said. “But, Justin …”

“He decided not to wake you. You needed the sleep more than you needed to go for a run.”

I yawned and stretched, then got a whiff of my breath.

“Whoops, I’ll just do my teeth and take a leak. I’ll leave showering until after our workout.”

As we passed through the Main Foyer in the direction of the Great Hall I glanced over at the points hourglasses.

“Hang on, where did we lose that many points?”

We seemed to be down about 100 from last night. Justin looked around, then said, “there’s a new Decree.”

“Educational Decree

“All students may only exit the Castle via the Main Doors.

“By order

“D. Umbridge

“High Inquisitor, Hogwarts

“14 September, 1996”

Bloody toad, she’d backdated it to Saturday.

“Guess that explains the points loss,” muttered Draco. “And it’s us who’s lost them.”

By then we’d seated ourselves and were making a dent in the breakfast foods supplied.

“Wonder how many others went out through the other doors. Bet she hasn’t taken points off them.”

“Leave it be, Potter. This is not the place or time,” whispered Malfoy urgently.

We completed our breakfasts and made our way down to the glasshouses to find that we were in Glasshouse Three dealing with the fanged geraniums. They’d outgrown their pots from when we dealt with them last year and so needed to be repotted.

While not an exciting task, it did require most of our focus to make sure we weren’t bitten by the plants. There were a few shrieks from some of the others and Neville’s face took on a very set look.

“Oh, for goodness sake,” he muttered after a particularly loud yell from Mandy Brocklehurst, and he stormed over to where she and Simone Thatcher were working.

“What are you doing to the plant to make it snap at you?”

“Nothing, we were just taking it out of the old pot, and it leaned over and grabbed my hand.”

“And how were you taking it out?”

“Well, I picked it up and was pulling the pot off.”

“So, you gave it a fright and it reacted. Fanged geraniums like to understand what you’re doing to them. Look, do it like this.”

He cupped both hands around the top of the pot and turned it so that it was just touching the new pot. “I’m moving you into this bigger pot, alright?” Then he moved his hands a little closer to the stems and wriggled the plant a little before lifting it up and out of the pot. He kept his hands together the whole time, holding the plant in his cupped hands, and then lowered it into the new pot.

“They like to feel supported by something all the time. By doing it the way you were, they got scared.”

“Scared? But it’s only a plant.”

“Some plants have some degree of sentience. Fanged geraniums have basic emotions like fear and happiness. If you show that you care, they’ll respond well.”

“O-kay.”

He came back across to us shaking his head. “Why doesn’t what they had to write in their essays actually sink in? And it was on the exam at the end of June.”

I put on my best blonde bimbo look and said, “but like Neville, that was like two and a half months ago. There’s sooo much that’s happened in between, like. I mean, zigazig-ah.”

Dean and Justin roared with laughter, while Seamus, Neville and Malfoy just looked bewildered.

“Harry, what on earth are you talking about?”

“Oh, just a song that came out over the summer from a new band. It got so much air-time that I think I know all the words to _Wannabe_.”

Professor Sprout was just coming over to us when there was a crash followed immediately by a scream. We looked across and saw a smashed pot on the floor at Lisa Turpin’s feet and a plant hanging off her arm by its teeth.

“Get it off me. Get it off me,” she was crying. The other students were just standing around looking bewildered.

“Stay here Neville,” ordered Malfoy. “You’ll only start throwing hexes around and make it worse.” And he ran across the glasshouse grabbing a pot as he went.

Between him and Professor Sprout the plant was settled into the pot and persuaded to release Lisa’s arm. A quick episkey healed the little wounds on her arm before Professor Sprout lit into her and the others around her.

Malfoy came back across shaking his head ruefully. “I got ten points, but that’s offset by her taking two off everyone who just stood around. I’ve not seen a fanged geranium that scared before. It was only just hanging on.”

We finished off the last few plants that we’d been assigned and went to wash up at the sinks at the back. Professor Sprout met us when we came back to our stations and gave us each a vial of petals.

“I can’t say anything under the current rules, but I believe you might find these useful tomorrow. After all the fresher, the better.”

We tucked them away carefully and, leaving our essays in the tray, headed back up to the Castle.

Seamus and Dean split off and went to Transfiguration, while we went up to the gym to meet Stagnant.

Our workouts went much as they had last Monday, except that there was an extra set on each of them.

While we were making the farewell bows, the two Seventh-Year guys came in and made their way across to a space where a boxing bag was hanging. We stayed to watch, but they grabbed a skipping rope each and started warming up.

“Hanging around like this is not going to help your muscles recover. Go,” ordered Stagnant.

We drank our half litre of water, then used the sauna for five minutes.

While we were showering, I looked across and saw Dobby appear to pick up our gym clothes. When we came out the others were looking around.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“My stuff’s vanished,” replied Justin.

“Dobby came in and took it away.”

“Oh. I guess I’m not used to having a house elf around.”

“Nor am I. But, you must admit it’s not a bad thing.”

“Oh, I’m not disagreeing with you. I’m just not used to it. Remember that in the Muggle world servants have mostly disappeared and we have to do things for ourselves. Although my family’s well-off and could afford to have a cleaner come in twice a week to help, my mother insists that me and my brother and sister help with various chores.”

“What do you have to do?” asked Neville.

“Well, I’m the oldest, so I’m the strongest. I mow the lawns and chop the wood. My sister is next in age, she does the vacuuming, and my brother helps with polishing the silver. He’s only ten and isn’t strong enough to do some of the other things. We all have our turns at washing the dishes and have to keep our rooms tidy.”

We headed down to lunch still talking about household chores. Even Draco had tasks to do when he was at home and was also expected to keep his room tidy without the help of the house elves.

Lunch was a smoothie each (passionfruit and pineapple for me). After a bit I noticed that Neville and Draco ears were going pink.

“What?”

“The gossipers,” whispered Justin. “They’re going on about how brave Neville and Draco are and how handsome and sexy.”

“Finch-Fletchley. Do you want to keep your balls?” said Malfoy through clenched teeth.

“Yes, please. However, that’s what I’m hearing them say.”

“Are you finished your lunch, Potter?”

“Uh, yes.”

“Then let’s get out of here.”

~~

We met Professor Flitwick in his office and he briefly discussed our progress on understanding how wild magic works, before leading us to different empty classroom than we’d been using.

“Best not to use the same place too many times just now,” he explained. “Also, I haven’t had a chance yet to perform the second rite of cleansing on that room following Thursday afternoon’s ritual. We don’t want your magics interacting in an uncontrolled manner just yet.”

He then got us to go through a meditation exercise.

“Now, with your eyes still closed, reach out with a single strand of magic to find one other person.”

I jumped slightly when I felt Neville’s magic and again when Justin’s touched me.

“Good. Now feel along the strand that was sent to you until just before you touch the source.

“Gently pull on it so that the strand lengthens a little.

“Alright, now think of an animal.”

The strong impression of a wombat immediately appeared in my mind.

“Now, without letting go of the strands of magic, slowly open your eyes.”

When I did, the form of a wombat slowly coalesced, then became solid. It snuffled about a bit, then faded away when we caught each other’s eyes and grinned.

“Close your eyes again, now pull your magic back in.”

“It’s a good thing, sir, that we didn’t think of a nundu or an Hungarian horntail.”

He laughed. “I was ready to banish anything like that. However, the space between you isn’t big enough for anything of that size to manifest. A wombat, though, is an interesting choice for a spontaneous creation.”

We explained briefly that it had come up in an Herbology class.

He got us to repeat the exercise, but this time we discussed what animal to have appear before we started. We chose a hyrax and he talked us through the meditation and linking. And a hyrax appeared between us.

We then attempted a pair of Highland terriers with Flitwick talking us into the meditation, but leaving us to manage the linking. There was obviously some confusion between us as to what a Highland terrier is because we ended up with a weird hybrid between a Scottie and a Highland that had six legs.

The shout of laughter caused the beast to cringe, yap loudly and then vanish.

After we’d reeled our magic back in, we had a discussion as what a Highland terrier actually is—as opposed to a Scottie—then we had another go. Two white dogs appeared with tartan coats on, one in Campbell, the other in Stuart. We kept them going for longer than we had the others, but after about a minute let them fade away.

“Okay, you’ve got time for one more. What’s it going to be?”

“A fallow-deer?” suggested Draco.

“A doe or a fawn?” I asked. “There isn’t really enough room here for a stag.”

“Uh, a fawn.”

We nodded, closed our eyes, and started the meditation again. Reaching out was easier this time and, when we opened our eyes, a perfect fawn appeared. It was old enough to walk around and its hooves could be heard knocking on the floor. It came across to each of us and nuzzled us, then flicked its tail and faded away.

“That was awesome,” said Neville once we’d pulled our magic strands back in.

There were murmurs of agreement from all of us.

“Now, on Thursday we’re going to extend this a little further and get you to create animals that can move outside the circle of your magic.”

We left in the direction of the Runes’ classroom.


	34. A Display of Muggle Magic

We reached the Runes classroom at the same time as Ernie.

“I think my father’s going to come tomorrow,” he said quietly. “Thanks for you what you’ve done.”

“Ernie, you could be my worst enemy and we would do something about it, it’s not right,” responded Neville.

Professor Babbling started the class with a lecture about the ways in which Futhark bind runes are used.

“Your assignment this week is to select three runes and discuss how they can be combined and what the effects of the different combinations will be.”

I put my hand up.

“Yes, Mr. Potter?”

“Professor, you only mention combinations. Does the order in which runes are combined make a difference?”

“Yes, absolutely it does.”

“So, do you want us to cover the permutations as well as the combinations?”

She blinked for a moment then said, “yes, that was my intention.”

“Thank you.”

Some of the others were looking puzzled at me, so I explained, “a combination is regardless of order, while for a permutation, the order is important. So, if we’ve got three items called ABC, they can be sequenced in six different ways, right? ABC, ACB, BAC, BCA, CAB, CBA. Those are the permutations of the three items. But they’re all made up of the same three items, so it’s only one combination.”

Hermione was nodding away, but it was Adeyemi who said, “so that means we need to write about twelve bind runes in total.”

“Yes, six permutations of three runes, and six pairs.”

“How do you know this stuff, Potter?” asked Nott.

“A couple of summers ago, I borrowed a couple of books of maths puzzles from the local library. One of them had really good explanations of the theory behind the solutions.”

“Ravenclaw,” he sneered, but with no heat.

“Thank you,” I said with a grin back, remembering that he’d been in Ravenclaw for the last two years.

“Anyway,” cut in Professor Babbling. “That was my intention. I’m not prescribing a minimum length. However, anything more than four feet is too long.” And she looked meaningfully at Hermione and Cotterill.

“Now, for the remainder of our time today, we’ll return to the Devanagari scripts.”

~~

At the conclusion of dinner, Professor Dumbledore was giving his announcements.

“And it gives me great pleasure to announce that our guest, Mr. Tenggara, has kindly agreed to provide a demonstration of the magic show that he gives aboard the cruise ships. Anyone who wishes to witness this display of prestidigitation is invited to return here to the Great Hall at seven thirty this evening.”

A burst of chatter ran across the Great Hall as we were dismissed. The muggle-raised were trying to explain to various friends and housemates what a magic show is. Justin and I were among them.

Eventually I gave up and said, “look, just come along and watch. It will be worth it. It’ll also show support to Louis and Andrew.”

So, instead of working on our History essay, we found seats in the middle of a group of students from our year. In a blatant gesture in Umbridge’s direction, we sat with all the Houses mixed up.

“Ladies and gentlemen, boys, girls and plus, hold onto your seats, for you are about to witness the most amazing display of virtuosic talent that has ever been seen across the countless millennia of human existence, all bound up in one astonishing man. Please welcome to the stage the Wondrous Wizard of the Seas, Mr. Tenggara.”

I rolled my eyes at the cheesy canned introduction, but willingly joined in the applause as Louis appeared from the midst of a puff of smoke. He was dressed in a black muggle suit with a black bowtie and a white shirt. Over that he wore a highly embroidered cope that was lined with blood red silk. The cope shimmered and sparkled in the dancing candles of the Great Hall.

A roll of drums echoed around the Hall and ended with a cymbal crash. The Hall went dark except for a beam of light that shone directly on the man on the centre stage and he began a patter that talked of rings, scarves, balls, and hats. As he mentioned each one an illusory image appeared beside him, then he crossed his forearms in front of his chest and the images began to spin around him before the light went out briefly.

When it returned, about two seconds later, he had shed the cope and had moved to a small round table that had various pieces of equipment on it. He picked up a couple of metal hoops and demonstrated that they were solid, then a moment later they were linked with one hanging from the other. A third hoop joined the hanging one. He picked up the two hanging hoops and held them so that the third was between them, then blew on the middle hoop, which doubled in size.

He blew on it again and middle hoop changed into a ring of fire, then he whistled a couple of rising notes and a white dove appeared in the middle of the hoop in mid-flight. He walked across the stage and the dove flew with the hoops, always staying in the centre. He completed a circle around the stage, then returned to the centre. At which point the dove flew up to perch on the top of the hoop. As it landed, the fire went out, then he took the dove from the hoop and gently put her in a cage on top of another table.

The hoops were tossed into the air and when caught were separate again. Then followed a quick series of sleight of hand magic with sticks becoming scarves; scarves appearing out of solid bouncing balls; balls changing colour as they were juggled; and various items disappearing in a little puffs of flame. All the while he kept up a patter of misdirection in English and French, with asides in Hindi and Yoruba, along with the occasional joke in Patois, which had the Lee cousins roaring with laughter.

A tall box appeared in a swirl of smoke and he invited a couple of people from the audience to join him on stage.

“Now, just to be clear for everyone, please confirm that I have never met either of you before you came up here.”

They both nodded and were rewarded with smiles.

“Now, Ms. … ?”

“Johnson.”

“Alright, Ms. Johnson. Now, do you get claustrophobic? No? Excellent, then if you could please step into the Capricious Cabinet and I’ll ask this gentleman here to fasten the door.”

It was Carl Rosier, and he carefully closed the door and flicked across several bolts and hasps. After he stepped away, we could see Angelina’s face in an oval hole at the top of the door.

Louis gave Carl a scarf to give her to hold through a hole about half-way down and asked her to stick her foot into another hole near the bottom of the door.

“Now walk around the Capricious Cabinet and make sure that there is no way for Ms. Johnson to escape its confines.”

He then spun the cabinet around a couple of times in each direction so that we could see that it had a solid back and sides. Then, with it facing front again so that we could see Angelina’s face, he picked up a sheet of thin metal and slid it into the side of the cabinet at about a point just above her knees. He picked up another, demonstrated to us that it was solid and slid that in somewhere around the middle of her chest. Angelina continued to smile.

“Now, Mr. Rosier was it? Yes, good. If you would be so kind as to take hold of the handles on that side of the Capricious Cabinet and give them a good pull. Yes, bit more force.”

Slowly the middle of the cabinet slid sideways in Carl’s direction, then came right out. Louis was there just in time to catch the trailing edge as it left and the two of them carried it about three metres across to a waiting table.

“Wave the scarf, Ms. Johnson.” She dutifully waved it, then wiggled her foot in response to his further request.

He passed a flaming torch through the gap where the middle section had been taken away, then bent over and trundled the lower section away in the opposite direction leaving the part with Angelina’s head suspended by nothing in the middle of the stage.

“You realise that he’s not using any magic to do this?” whispered Justin. “Or, at least, none that I can see.”

Draco threw him a startled glance before turning his face back to the stage where Angelina was being put back together before being released from the cabinet to general applause.

“Thank you both for your assistance,” and he clapped Carl on the back upon which he vanished to be replaced by a large toad. “Whoops, that wasn’t supposed to happen. I’m so sorry, Mr. Rosier.”

“Croak, croak.”

“Why thank you for your forgiveness, I do appreciate that.”

“Croak, croak.”

“What do you mean, I shouldn’t leave you like this?”

“Croak.”

Louis sighed loudly and said, “I suppose I can try. Let me see what I’ve got.” He produced a classic magician’s wand—a black cylinder with a white tip at each end.

“Abracadabra!” he exclaimed as he waved the wand in a near perfect imitation of Lockhart at his most flourishing.

Nothing happened.

“Croak, croak.”

“Yes, yes, I know that wasn’t very effective. It was described in a book I read by someone with the unlikely name of Gilderoy.”

A shout of laughter from the senior students greeted him.

“Let’s try something else. Hmm. I know!

“O great Minerva, protectress of the factory of Spode,  
Restore to us the handsome man out of this here toad.”

Nothing happened.

“Alright, there’s only one thing left. What’s the well-known solution to restore men from enchanted toads?”

There was a general babble of people calling out about kissing.

“Kissing, you say? Alright, come here Mr. Rosier.” And Louis picked up the toad and gave it a smacking kiss.

Nothing happened and Louis looked bewildered.

“Croak, croak.”

“What? True love’s kiss? You mean I’m not good enough. Uh, is Mr. Rosier’s true love present?”

A Hufflepuff girl called Magda Clarke was pushed by her friends to stand up.

“Oh, good. That’s a relief. Please come forward.”

She stumbled on to the stage, blushing furiously.

“Now, if you would just lean over and kiss Mr. Rosier here.”

Just as she was about to bend over to do it, Louis touched her on the shoulder to guide her. She also vanished and there were now two toads.

“There we are, all solved. True love has accomplished its purposes.” He turned to Angelina, who was still on the stage. “Now, Ms. Johnson…”

She skipped quickly out of range of his touch.

“Nuh-uh. I’m not joining them in toad-ness.”

“I wasn’t going to … Oh very well, if you could just pick the two of them up and …”

She was shaking her head.

“No? Very well, then.” He swept over to the other side of the stage, picked up two large scarves, brought them back and draped one over each of the two toads.

“I’ll pick one up and walk over here, and you pick up the other. Now, pull the scarf off like this.”

He whipped the scarf off and there was a white dove in his hand instead of the toad. He nodded to Angelina to do the same. She found herself holding a dove also.

“Now, let’s toss them in the air. On the count of three. One … Two … Three!”

They threw the doves up, who flapped their wings a couple of times and vanished leaving Carl and Magda standing together looking stunned.

There was a burst of applause as the three students returned to their seats and Louis took a bow before touching the cabinet and sending it away in another swirl of smoke.

“True love’s kiss reminds me of a time when my ship was sailing up past San Francisco in the direction of Denver and a sulphur-crested cockatoo flew over me, seeking prey.” At which moment a large white bird appeared above him. He continued his tall tale while persuading it to come down to his hand.

Once there, the two of them had a conversation that finished in singing a duet version of _Loch Lomond_, before the bird was turned into a dove and added to the cage.

Louis went through another juggling routine that resulted in the balls turning into doves and being put in the cage.

The cage was then wheeled into the centre of the stage and covered with a large tasselled piece of cloth that reached to the ground. He clicked his fingers twice and pulled the cloth off again. The cage had vanished and in its place was another cabinet.

He opened the door to show that it was empty, threw a bright purple scarf in it and closed the door. When he reopened it, the scarf had gone and there was an aubergine there instead. That was taken out and put on a table. A yellow scarf became a bunch of bananas; while a green one was turned into a cabbage, and a brown with a patch of red resulted in a loaf of bread and a jar of jam.

He then got a volunteer from the audience to come and stand holding a screen in front of her.

“Now, I’m going to get into this cabinet, then we’ll get the audience to count backwards from ten, then shout ‘blast off!’. When they say that I want you to shake the screen. Practice doing that now. Harder. That’s it. Excellent. What is it they say here? Oh, I know. Ten points for shaking.”

He climbed into the cabinet and just before he shut the door on himself, he got us to start counting.

“Ten … nine … eight … seven … six … five … four … three … two … one … blast off!”

The screen started shaking, then fell over to show that there was no one behind it anymore. The Great Hall fell silent, then the cage of doves reappeared, and the lid opened letting them all out to fly. One flew over to the cabinet and settled on the lid. As soon as it did it was replaced by the student who looked surprised to be there. She hopped down and was looking around wondering what to do next.

“Open the door,” someone called out to her. When she did, a badger climbed out, followed by an eagle, a snake, and a griffin. Some music started playing and the four animals met in the middle of the stage and started dancing together. The music got faster, and the animals started to blur together and a moment later Louis was standing there, applauding his volunteer assistant.

He held up his hands for silence as she went back to her seat. “From one cabinet there came four animals; from four animals there came one person. We are all made of a combination of strengths and it is in the integration of those that we are united against those who would divide us.

“Our time together this evening is drawing to a close …”

A combined groan of disappointment rose from the audience.

“… however, there is just time to remind you that not everything you see is to be believed. After all, it is just a matter of smoke and mirrors.”

He then proceeded to pick up his paraphernalia and piece by piece it vanished in puffs of smoke. Last of all he picked up his cope, swung it over his shoulders, did up the clasp, bowed deeply, and clicked his fingers twice, before he too disappeared in a swirl of smoke. The lights come back on and we found that even the stage had gone.

Sustained applause ensued and then we were dismissed to our Common Rooms and beds.

“So?” demanded Malfoy.

“So, very little of that used any magic that I could detect. Certainly, there was nothing that would break the Statute of Secrecy.”

“But how?”

“Through a lot of diligent practice and hard work.”

“And some brilliant showmanship,” I added.

When we reached our room, we were still talking about the show.

“That thing with the house symbols combining together?” said Justin. “He was warning us about Umbridge and Fudge, wasn’t he?”

Malfoy replied, “yes, and it was the same message as the Hat gave us at the Welcoming Feast.”

Neville said, “hey guys, do you realise that we’ve only been here for two weeks? Look how much has happened.”

“Indeed. And to think that this was supposed to be a quiet year of learning and studying,” said Malfoy.

I laughed. “Well, given that I’ve never had a quiet year here, it’s not that surprising is it?” Then I yawned. “I’m going to bed, Binns’ essay can wait. I could write it during his class tomorrow afternoon.”

“Harry? Don’t forget …”

“No, I’ll clear my mind properly tonight. Good night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about not posting last week. My usual time for writing is on my commute, but at present I'm driving in rather than using public transport, so my writing time is squeezed into the evenings.
> 
> When I started writing this story I wasn't anticipating that it would take 34 chapters and nearly 120,000 words to write about a mere two weeks of school life. And there are still characters and plotlines to introduce. I'll try to get through the third week a little more quickly.


	35. A Set of Visitors

Tuesday 17 September

We were part way through breakfast when the post owls arrived. I nudged Neville when I spotted an owl in Gringotts’ livery flying up to the head table. He signalled the other two and we watched as it landed beside Dumbledore’s plate. He retrieved the package with a look of curiosity on his face that turned to dismay as the owl turned and neatly defecated into his plate before departing.

He must have made a noise because the rest of the staff turned to look at him. They were waved off and returned to their meals, although I could see that Snape and McGonagall were watching him as carefully as we were. He picked up a clean knife and slit open the top of the package. He gently pulled out the contents and held up a small jar, squinting at it with a puzzled look. He turned to Snape and seemed to ask him what the contents might be. Snape just shrugged.

The Headmaster then retrieved the note that been in the package. His eyebrows shot up as he read it, then a look of anger took over his face.

“Oh good, he’s furious,” muttered Malfoy. “Let’s hope he makes a mistake and gives something away.”

“Mr. Potter!” rang through the Hall.

I looked up and around vaguely as if wondering who had called my name. Then I caught a small shake of Snape’s head. I got the message, “don’t play with him.”

“Yes, Headmaster?” I called back as I stood up.

He seemed to recollect himself and become aware of where he was and who was listening. “No matter. Nothing for the moment.” And he sat down again and went to resume his breakfast. He then went purple as he realised that his breakfast had owl poop in it.

“Let’s get out of here,” I said in a low voice before leading the way in the general direction of the Transfiguration classroom.

~~

Once we had all assembled, Justin raised his hand.

“Yes, Mr. Finch-Fletchley?”

“I was wondering, Professor, about the magic show last night. How much of that was real magic?”

There was some scoffing from others in the room. “Of course it was real magic,” was muttered by more than one.

A quelling look came from McGonagall.

“Actually, very little of that display used any magic at all. Most of it was a highly polished performance from a very skilled young man, who had evidently put in many hours of practice.”

“Do you mean, he was faking all those things like vanishing the cage of doves and cutting Angelina Johnson in three parts?” asked Cho.

“Yes, although I don’t know how he did either of those things. The only magic I could detect the whole evening was vanishing the stage at the end.”

Parkinson piped up, “could he have masked the magic enough to hide it from you?”

I saw McGonagall flick her eyes at Justin who shook his head a little and then at someone else in the room.

“Do you remember our first class a couple of weeks back when I challenged you all to transfigure needles that no-one in the room could detect magic on?” There were nods. “You will recall that there are three people here who can detect magic and that we do it in different ways. Well, none of three of us detected the use of magic.”

“How possible is it to reproduce some of those routines using magic?” asked Terry Boot.

There were murmurs from Adams and Nott indicating that they’d like to know too.

“With a combination of runes, charms, and transfiguration, much of what Mr. Tenggara did could theoretically be done. However, it would take someone with a Mastery in all three to do either of the cabinet tricks. And transfiguring the properties of items while juggling them is well beyond anything I’ve seen done in my years of experience.”

“Particularly while bantering with the audience,” added one of the Patil twins.

“So, we have to accept that it really was smoke and mirrors,” said Zabini. “I mean, he can’t have apparated in or out … unless he persuaded the Headmaster to lower the anti-apparation ward?”

“No, that remained in place,” replied Professor McGonagall.

“So,” said Daphne Greengrass, “unless he was somehow able to manipulate a pocket dimension, he really did manage to fake us all.”

“Remember, though, where he normally does his show,” pointed out Neville. “On board a cruise liner. Dealing with a pocket dimension while riding on a moving object is almost impossible. Also, the concentration required would be huge.”

It gave us all much to think about as we returned to conjuring tea sets out of blocks of wood.

“Look, Potter. I can do it now,” proclaimed Goyle as he flicked his wand. A set of three cups, saucers, teaspoons, sugar bowl and milk jug appeared on an ornately carved wooden tray with a large teapot beside them. There were even sugar lumps in the bowl.

“That’s very good, Greg,” I said, and Malfoy went over and shook his hand in congratulation.

“Professor?” he asked.

“Mr. Goyle, I am very pleased with this. Take five points and I’m awarding you an E for this project.”

He blushed a bit but looked delighted.

Malfoy whispered something to him, and he looked back at him puzzled for a moment, then nodded and did the untransfigure wand motion. He screwed his face up in concentration and flicked his wand again. The same set reappeared, but this time there was a curl of steam rising from the spout of the teapot.

“Oh, very well done, Mr. Goyle!” exclaimed Professor McGonagall. “I’ll add a ‘plus’ to that grade.”

Goyle’s eyes lit up. “Thanks, P’fessor. My Nan’s gonna be chuffed when I tell ’er.”

As McGonagall swept away to check on some of the others Goyle whispered to us, “ain’t never done better’n A a’fore this. ’Cept in Care, of course.”

Then I realised that he meant in all his classes. He was a plodder, but obviously was capable of more—if there was a way.

“Malfoy,” I said quietly when we had returned to our seats. “Is there a way of using mind magic to help someone connect the visual cortex into the Kalocsai area?”

“The _what_ area?”

“The Kalocsai area. It’s the part of a magic user’s brain where magical intent is hypothesised to happen. Analogous to the Broca’s area for speech production.”

He stared back at me. “Potter, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

I took a deep breath, then stopped. “Sorry, I was about to channel my inner Hermione. Let’s not get into the details of neurophysiology. I’ll rephrase my initial question. Is there a way of using mind magic to help someone like Greg with the link between visualisation and active intent?”

“I don’t know. You’ll probably need to ask Professor Snape about it, as he knows a lot more about the mind arts than most people around.”

By then there was just Ron and Parkinson who hadn’t yet managed to transfigure their teasets to McGonagall’s satisfaction and she awarded them both a P grade.

“You are still expected to achieve this task, but in your own time. This has been on the OWL exam five times in the last seven years, so it would be a good idea for you all to continue to practice and refine this particular transfiguration.

“Now, we shall move on to looking at animate to inanimate transfiguration.” She spent the remaining forty minutes of the class discussing the principles and finished by assigning us a two-foot literature review.

In Charms Flitwick side-stepped the questions about Louis’ magic show and we had the promised discussion on how to tell whether a combined charm had been successful.

The boys got a Potions tutorial, then we all headed down for lunch. When we arrived in the Grand Foyer a man dressed like a Muggle churchman came in through the main doors.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen. I wonder if you might be able to assist me to find my nephew?”

“We can try sir,” came Justin’s reply. “Who is your nephew?”

“Ernest MacMillan.”

“He’s in our year, sir, but in a different house. Let me just check the Hufflepuff table.” Justin went over to the door into the Great Hall, then beckoned the man over. He pointed to the second table and to where Ernie was sitting.

“Uncle Donald! What are you doing here?”

“I’ve arranged to meet your father when he arrives. So, you’re back in Hufflepuff again?”

Ernie was about to reply when there was a “hem, hem.”

The man turned to find Umbridge glaring up at him.

“As sure as I’m born, it’s Dolores. D’ye no ken who I am, mial-mhàgach?”

I heard a distant gasp from Seamus and Professor McGonagall. I quirked an eyebrow at Seamus who scribbled a quick note, then folded it and got Lisa Turpin to pass it to me. I glanced quickly at it, then had to suppress a snort of laughter.

> “That’s the Gaelic word for a toad.”

“Of course I know you Donald MacMillan. But what brings the Bishop of Moray, Ross and Caithness to Hogwarts? Particularly unannounced.”

“Can I no be visiting my nephew? And I’m also the Episcopal Visitor to Hogwarts. After all she does lie within my diocese and I have a spiritual responsibility for the Christian souls that live here.”

Star came up to us at that point and bobbed a curtsey, “well met, your Grace.”

“Ah, Ms. Hughes. Well met indeed. ’Tis a bonny sight to be seeing you. What news?”

“I’ve been named as the relief Seeker on the Ravenclaw team.”

“Oh, but how wonderful. And who are you the relief for?”

“Cho Chang, but we’ve also got Harry and Draco on the team, so I have lots of opportunities to learn how to fill the position.”

“Hem, hem.”

“Dolores, your throat is sounding much worse these days. You really ought to get Professor Snape to sort you out with some of his special lozenges. I find they work far better than anything else to soothe things when I’ve had to talk a lot. Now, I’ve been disturbing all you other students for too long. I’ll just sit here and catch up with my nephew while you all have lunch.”

With that he swung his legs over the bench and dropped down to sit with Ernie. The rest of us carefully avoided Umbridge’s eyes as they promised retribution.

We had a thick vegetable soup for lunch with thick slices of fresh bread and were mostly through when I heard Hermione’s squeak. I looked up and saw a pair of adults standing in the doorway looking over the students with a determined air.

I recognised the woman from my trial. She had been at the front of the court and had kept everyone in order.

“Aunt Amelia!” exclaimed Susan and she leapt to her feet and walked quickly up to the woman where they hugged briefly.

Ernie was also on his feet and he and his father shook hands as they greeted each other.

Justin had been watching the head table and muttered, “interesting reactions from the staff.”

“What?” asked Neville.

“Dumbledore is looking affable, Umbridge is angry, McGonagall is puzzled, and Snape is gleeful. The rest are just curious.”

The two visitors then made their way down to the Head Table with Ernie and Susan. Bishop MacMillan rose and followed them.

“Madam Bones, Your Graces. What brings you to Hogwarts?” asked Dumbledore.

“Headmaster,” said Susan’s aunt. “I have received word that my niece had a detention the other night at which she was required to write lines for five-and-a-half hours.”

“My son attended the same detention and was also required to write lines for the same period of time.”

“While that does seem to be a rather lengthy time, it is within the parameters of a detention.”

“With a blood quill?” asked Madam Bones.

“A blood quill with compulsions added to it,” said Ernie’s father.

“On parchment laced with secrecy charms,” added the Bishop.

Pause for general astonishment while Umbridge puffed up.

“But whoever would do such a thing?” asked Dumbledore in his best kindly old buffer voice.

“The one who styles herself as ‘High Inquisitor’, Headmaster.”

“Dolores, my dear, I’m sure that you will be able to clear this little matter up. It seems quite unlikely to me.”

The Bishop snorted, “actually, Professor Dumbledore, it’s right in line with what that witch would do. You will be pleased to remember that the two of us attended Hogwarts together some years ago and even then, she was an underhanded, nasty minded, heartless, vindictive witch. I am in the business of dealing with changed lives and I detect nothing of the sort in the twenty something years since we graduated.”

Ernie’s father turned to the student tables.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I am Lord MacMillan, the current Dux Magicis. For those of you who were asleep in the History of Magic class when the role of the Dux Magicis was covered, my primary task is to be the interface between the Magical world of the United Kingdom and the Crown.

“Everyone who is here present that has had a detention with Ms. Umbridge please stand.”

Seamus was on his feet immediately, as was Lee Jordan. No-one else stood.

“I can assure you that you will not be in trouble for letting us know. And, as you can see, neither of these gentlemen have been struck down for revealing this information.”

Gradually, students across all four Houses and all seven Years rose to their feet, until about seventy students were standing.

“That’s about one fifth of the school, Headmaster. That seems rather a high proportion to be in a detention by the third week of the school year, does it not?”

The Headmaster spluttered for a moment, then gathered himself. “Well, um, it’s not unknown. And I do allow the teaching staff to manage their classrooms …”

Madam Bones cut in. “Professor Snape, how many detentions have you given so far this year?”

“Eight.”

“Professor McGonagall?”

“Five.”

“The two of you are well known to be the toughest disciplinarians in the school, and yet you have given a tenth of the number of detentions that have been incurred by Ms. Umbridge.”

Umbridge’s face flushed, then she stood. “I find the students here are poorly disciplined and have been allowed to get away with all sorts of misbehaviours. I have merely been correcting this deplorable situation.”

“So, you admit to using blood quills?”

“Yes, Amelia.”

“Thank you, that will make things much easier. I’ll get things sorted and then will let you know the date to appear.”

“Whatever do you mean, dear?”

“I mean, dear, that the use of blood quills outside of any branch of a wizarding bank was made illegal in 1819 by a 90 percent majority vote in the Wizengamot. The abuse of them throughout the Third Goblin War and the Napoleonic Wars was sickening. As you have just admitted to using them outside of a Gringott’s branch, you will have to stand trial. I’ll personally let you know the date of the trial.” And there was smile in her voice that boded ill for anyone it was directed at.

“And what, in the name of heaven, has been going on here?” came from the back of the Great Hall in a rich brogue.

“That’ll be Finnegan’s mother,” said Malfoy.

“Mam, what’re ye here for?” exclaimed Seamus.

“I want t’ be knowing what do be happening at this school that allows children’s hands to be sliced up without a by your leave from someone responsible.”

“An’ I want to know that too.” A tall black woman came in and stood beside her.

“Lee Jordan’s mother?” suggested Neville.

“Not wanting to pile on here, but I think an answer would be good idea.” It was Mr. Weasley.

“Which of the weasels got a detention?” muttered Malfoy.

“Probably the twins, although it hadn’t happened when I last spoke with them.”

“I think Ron and Ginny both did,” said Neville. “Pretty sure I smelt murtlap when we were in Transfiguration this morning. And Ginny’s hand was sore when I saw her going down to Quidditch practice on Saturday.”

“Good afternoon, ladies. I’m Amelia Bones, the head of the DMLE. Hello, Arthur. I’m here for similar reasons to yourself. Come up here and meet Lord MacMillan.”

Mrs. Finnegan gave a humph, but went up with Lee’s mother and Mr. Weasley.

“Well, then, if it isn’t young Donald.”

“Hello, Bridget. How’s yourself?”

“Oh, meself is doing just grand. However, is that yon nephew, then?”

“Aye, it is. And, aye, his hand has been gotten at too.”

“An’ who is that’s been a doing this? All I got from my boy was that it were some biddy by the name of Umbridge. Oh, hello Dolores. These do be strange times, but I don’t remember hearin’ that ye had children.”

Umbridge looked startled to be addressed in such a way.

“Lord MacMillan, this is Bridget Finnegan, the mother of one of the Fifth-Year students. And this is Rashona Jordan, the mother of a Seventh-Year student and aunt of a Second-Year.”

“Delighted to meet you both. Mrs. Finnegan I remember as we overlapped in our studies here. I’m Donald’s older brother. Hello, Arthur.”

They all shook hands and the noise of the students rose around us stopping us from hearing anything else. I saw Snape lean over and say something to McGonagall. She nodded, then stood and went round to the lectern.

She must have cast a sonorous as she walked because her voice rang through the Hall.

“Students, please keep the volume down otherwise you will not hear what is happening.”

She smiled briefly at us while we stared back. She had actually given us permission to listen in. The volume dropped in time for us to hear Seamus’ mother asking again who this Umbridge biddy was.

“Ah Bridget, you’re no keeping up with the news, are ye? Dolores decided that her name had nae gravitas, so she changed it frae Wilson to Umbridge.”

“What? Are you telling me that Dolores Wilson is teaching the Defence? Jasus, Mary, and Joseph, things must have come to a poor pass. Less’n o’ course, she’s someone else under the Polyjuice. I believe that’s ben done afore.” And she glared at Dumbledore.

“No, I assure you that I am not under Polyjuice and I am most definitely myself and am teaching Defence to make up for the deplorable lack of competency in the past several years. The Minister himself appointed me to this role.”

“Ah, so you’re the Minister’s doxy now, is it? You do realise that he’ll find himself another while you’re here, don’t ye?”

I could hear Seamus moan, “Mam, she’ll take this out on me later.”

I looked over my shoulder in time to see Dean pull Seamus into his arms in an attempt to comfort him. I turned back to raise an eyebrow at Justin. He nodded.

“Royal blue. Completely compatible. Can’t see where one starts and the other finishes.”

Lord MacMillan was explaining that Umbridge would be arraigned before the courts for breaking the 1819 statute and that they were about to go up to Umbridge’s office and quarters to collect all the blood quills that she had.

Umbridge attempted to object, but Madam Bones produced a search warrant with multiple signatures on it and she gave in.

“Will you be joining us, Headmaster?” asked the Bishop in tones that made it a rhetorical question.

“Yes, yes by all means. Students, you are dismissed to afternoon classes.”

“Defence then,” I said. “Although I really have no idea what we’ll do there while she is being looked after.”

“Oh, I don’t know. We might be able to get ahead in our reading,” said Justin with a grin.

“Mind you, if Harry goes up there then Dumbledore will have problems going with them into the office next door.”

“Sounds like the right thing to do then. Let’s go up to the corridor and watch the fun.”

And we went up to the corridor outside the Defence classroom and joined the other Fifth-Year students standing around in casual groups. I went over to where Ron was standing.

“You didn’t tell me you’d got a detention from her.”

He shrugged. “Haven’t really had the time, but yeah.”

“Great that your Dad came up to see about it, eh?”

“Nah, he didn’t come for me. I’m not that important. He came for Ginny.” He turned away from me.

“No, Ron, that’s not true.” And I went to grab him by the arm.

“Leave it Potter,” said Nott. “Weasley’s not in the right space at the moment.”

Just then the forerunners of the expected procession appeared in the person of Susan and Ernie accompanied by Ernie’s uncle.

“Excuse me, sir,” it was Hermione. “Are you really the bishop of a muggle diocese?”

“Yes, that’s the only way to be a bishop. There are no wizarding dioceses. However, I do have the cure of all the souls that reside in the diocese, regardless of whether they are magical or non-magical; whether they are centaur, giant, goblin, were-folk, elves or human.”

“How is that we haven’t see you visit before?”

“It’s not long since I was elected to the diocese and the previous incumbent was somewhat elderly by the time he resigned the See. As a result there has been a lot of work to do with overseeing the restoration of many things. However, I have visited Hogwarts a few times. Each time has been in response to a particular need. This time, though, it is more general and thus I have finally been able to meet a much wide range of students. I do hope that gives some kind of explanation, Ms. Granger.”

“How …?”

“The lost art of observation, my dear. Your name is written on the front of the exercise book you hold in your hands.”

“Oh.”

“Come along Albus, we can’t wait her forever.” It was Susan’s aunt’s voice.

I winked at Neville and slipped up the corridor a short way to stand with Crabbe and Goyle, who were taking the opportunity to spend some time together.

“Potter, I want to thank you for your help to Greg.”

“That’s not a problem Crabbe. I was more than happy to help out. Sometimes we just need a different way of looking at things.”

“Mr. Potter, I formally give you permission to use my first name in casual conversation.”

“Thank you, Mr. Crabbe. I do likewise.”

And we shook hands.

“Mr. Potter, I formally give you permission to use my first name in casual conversation.”

“Thank you, Mr. Goyle. I do likewise.”

Now, there were two people I never expected to be more than knuckle-cracking acquaintances with.

Because of where I was standing, Dumbledore made it around the corner with the others before running into the block again.

“What are you students all doing here?” he asked.

“Professor, we have our Defence class now. We’re just waiting for permission to enter the classroom,” piped up Adeyemi.

“Maybe I could teach the class. What was your lesson plan for today, Dolores?”

“That won’t be necessary, Albus. Class, you may go about your business somewhere else. You will be expected to have read through to the end of Chapter Five before we next meet. Dismissed.”

The other guys came up to where I was standing and Malfoy invited Crabbe and Goyle to join us in the library.


	36. Wagnerian Drama

We arrived at the library at the same as several others from our year. Hermione invited us all into one of the study rooms behind Madam Pince’s desk. Not many students were allowed the privilege of using them. Of course Hermione was one of the few. And, after she persuaded Madam Pince that we all needed to discuss a study project in Defence together, we were allowed to join her.

“Malfoy, could you please put up a muffling charm?” she asked. When he’d done so she continued, “we’ve got to do something about our Defence education. We’re not learning anything useful …”

“Nor is any other year,” said Terry Boot.

“Exactly. This is our OWLs year and a pass in Defence is critical for all of us. We need it for our future careers, no matter what they are.”

“So, what are you suggesting Granger?” asked Justin.

“We set up a Defence club where we can practice.”

“And how would that work? Someone would need to lead the club. Someone with the experience and knowledge.”

“Well, Harry is by far the best at Defence in our year and is actually better than most Sixth- and Seventh-years too.”

“What? Hermione, are you suggesting that I run an illegal Defence club? Or do you think that _she_ will let me do it?”

After more arguing from Hermione, the four of us along with Greg and Vincent declined and left the others to it. We spent some time studying together before heading off to History for us four and Charms for Vince and Greg.

Binns was back to talking about Fafner and Fasolt and their arguments over the Ring of Alberich.

“This then resulted in the murder of Siegfried. The selkie Brünnhilde committed sati on Siegfried’s funeral pyre. Wotan then led the Veela and Vampire armies out of Valhalla to make a final assault on combined giant and goblin hordes. A party of goblin sappers circled behind them and fired the castle. In an attempt to extinguish the fire, the Rhein was redirected. Unfortunately, instead of reaching the castle it flooded the dwelling tunnels of the goblins.”

“Oh, for goodness sake,” muttered Malfoy. “Next we’ll have the Four Horsemen galloping across the field of battle while Lohengrin gets married in the background.”

I looked strangely at him.

“This is more of that Wagner nonsense.”

Somehow Binns picked up that there was some restiveness in his audience. “Is there a problem Mr. Morris?”

“Sir, I’m wondering why you are teaching the fictional plot of Richard Wagner’s operas _Der Ring des Nibelungen_ as fact?”

The ghost looked confused. “What do you mean? It is well known that Wagner based his plots on real events.”

“Extensive research in the literatures and traditions of the Germanic-speaking peoples has been done—both muggle and magical. There is no record prior to the publication of the opera of Valhalla being located anywhere close to the Rhein. The very names you use appear for the first time in connection with Wagner. Do you need more proof? After all, sir, you do deal with proven facts only.”

The class was waking up around us and looking about them like dogs scenting a mysterious smell. Hermione’s back had gone tight with the discomfort of hearing someone challenge a teacher.

“Mr. Molloy,” bleated Binns, “where do you get these ideas from? Henry Sweet’s work …”

“…is out of date, given he died in 1912. This is 1996. That’s over eighty-four years of research since Sweet.”

“Sir?” piped up Hermione. “When exactly did you become a ghost?”

A collective hiss of sharply drawn breath came from the wizarding-raised in the room.

“That question, Miss Grant, is usually considered to be somewhat rude to ask of a ghost. However, I assisted in the celebrations of the Queen’s diamond jubilee a few months prior. I leave you to work it out from there.”

“So, next year is your centenary, sir,” was her immediate reply.

“I wouldn’t have thought so, it’s only a few years ago. I think you must be conflating years with decades. If I may say so, that’s not very wise. Now, if I may return to the accidental flooding of the goblin domains around Valhalla, we shall continue with our lesson.”

Malfoy blew out an exasperated breath and muttered, “so, why are we here?”

“Because it’s a compulsory subject?” tossed back Neville.

“Is it any wonder no-one has taken History of Magic to NEWT level at Hogwarts for a very long time?”

He scratched out a noughts-and-crosses grid on his parchment and he and Justin played a few games while the rest of us sank back into our accustomed torpor.

When we escaped the classroom and were heading back to Ravenclaw, Malfoy said, “we’ve got to do something about this. There’s something like a hundred years of wizarding history that no one is being taught. I mean, surely, we should have discussed the reasons for the rise of Grindelwald to power. And how much effect did the wars in Vietnam or Korea have on the wixen in East Asia? But no, all we get is wars with giants and goblins—and not all of those, either. The war with the giants in southern Africa back in 1899 to 1902 is missing, and as for the recent war with the goblins in Bosnia—I doubt he even knows about it.”

"You mean the Boer War?" I asked.

"Yes, the muggles think it was their war. They were just minor players compared with what was really going on at Spion Kop. And both Milošević and Karadžić were fielding troops of goblins. It wasn’t until NATO brought in a Company of battle wizards last year that the Bosnian was ended.”

“Is your father still on the Board of Governors?” asked Neville.

“Yes, but his focus is elsewhere at the moment. We need someone who hasn’t been taught by Binns and realises that what we’re being taught is inadequate.”

By then we’d reached our room and we threw ourselves down on the seats in our sitting area. Dobby had found a sofa and a couple of chairs that sort of matched.

“But how has the Ministry not found out through the exams?” I asked.

“The majority of them have been taught by him, so the exams are set based on what they’ve been taught here. Also, there’s always a choice on the OWLs exam, so no-one answers the questions that would find out.”

The topic of conversation changed to a gleeful discussion of the various looks on Dumbledore’s and Umbridge’s faces both when the vial of farts arrived this morning and then the Bishop.

Justin suddenly looked at his watch, then leapt to his feet. “Come on, we’ve only got five minutes to get down to dinner.”

“But the gong hasn’t gone.”

“It must have, we just didn’t hear it.” Then Justin laughed. “Harry, that noise reduction spell you put up last week when Andrew was here?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s still there.”

“What?”

“Later, Potter, let’s not give _her_ any more reasons to take points.”

And we left the room quickly.

Fortunately, we arrived at the same time as a group of Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, so our lateness wasn’t as obvious as it would have been. Terry, Michael and Adeyemi had kept some space for us between them and the Sixth-Years, so we were able to slip into our seats without disturbing the Headmaster.

Shepherd’s pie and a spinach salad appeared in front of us and we tucked in happily. The others wanted to know why we were late.

“Oh, we just got distracted by discussing the news of the day,” Neville said airily.

They grinned. “Oh man, yeah, it was a hot topic in our chamber too,” said Adeyemi.

“So, what’s going to happen now, do you reckon?” asked Michael.

“Not sure at the moment. It’s not good complaining about him as he’s too entrenched in that classroom. Today’s class was the worst yet,” replied Malfoy.

“What are you talking about, Malfoy?” asked Terry.

“Binns, of course.”

“But …”

Justin gave him a quelling look. “Not here, Boot. Do be sensible.”

A school owl arrived just then with a note for me. It was in the familiar loopy writing of Dumbledore. I asked the owl to wait.

> “Dear Harry,  
I would be appreciative of the opportunity to have a chat with you in my office after dinner.  
Best wishes,  
A. Dumbledore   
P.S. I am enjoying the delicate taste of Milky Way bars at present.”

I turned the note over and wrote,

> “Dear Professor,  
Please advise me on what I should do.  
HJP”

“Please take this note to Professor Snape,” I asked the owl and it seized the note in its beak and flitted off.

I watched as the bird reached Snape and then perched on the back of his chair. Snape carefully unfolded the note, scanned both sides, then nodded to me before turning to Dumbledore. A few minutes later he came down the Great Hall to where we were sitting.

“Mr. Potter, this evening’s prior engagement with me takes precedence. Don’t forget to bring what you have written so far with you.”

“Thank you, sir. I’ll see you in twenty minutes.”

He nodded, then swept away in the direction of a food fight that was beginning at the Gryffindor table.

“Thank goodness I wrote most of it on Sunday morning,” I muttered to Neville as we ate our rhubarb crumble.

A quick dash up to our room to grab my notes was followed by my knocking on Snape’s office door.

“Enter! Good to see your punctuality is improving, Mr. Potter. Now, let us deal with the official reason for you being here. Show me what you have done so far.”

I passed over several sheets of A4 paper and sat quietly while he read them through. He pulled a green ballpoint pen out of a drawer and jotted some notes down in the margins.

“This is a good start, Mr. Potter. You need to flesh out some more detail in the explanation of how the propolis stabilises the salve, and the conclusion needs rewriting completely. I’ve made some notes on suggested grammatical changes throughout.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Now, come through.” And he led the way to a door I had never seen opened.

On stepping through I found that we were in a sitting room that had a group of comfortable looking chairs arrayed around a fireplace. In one corner there was a television set with a row of VHS cassettes on the shelf under it. On the back wall were several shelving units, most filled with books, but one had several rows of CDs. There were some paintings hung here and there and a magical window that showed a view over the Forbidden Forest from about the point of Hagrid’s hut. The only door that I could see was the one we’d come in through.

“Come and sit down, Harry. Would you like a drink?”

“Uh, green tea?”

“Of course. Plain or fruit?”

“Plain, please.”

A moment later I had a cup of fragrant tea in my hands, while Snape had what smelt like an Irish coffee—I’d prepared enough of those for Uncle Vernon to have a good idea of their smell. He waved his wand at the back wall and the sounds of a string instrument filled the quiet room.

“What is this music, sir?”

“This is the third of Sebastian Bach’s Suites for solo cello. The artist is Pablo Casals. I find them soothing to listen to after teaching dunderheads all day—particularly when I’ve ended the day with the combined inabilities of the Fourth Year Slytherin/Gryffindor class.”

“I quite like it. It’s so different from the stuff they play on the WWN or that Dudley listened to all summer.”

“Now, we need to plan how you’re going to keep out of the Headmaster’s clutches for a while longer. I can’t keep inventing prior meetings, and nor can Minerva or Rolanda. At some point, you’ll have to get the goblins to lift the distance prohibition and talk with the Headmaster. If only to find out from him why he’s been treating you in the way he has.”

“I think I already know the answer to that, sir. Is it safe to talk freely about it in here?”

He looked approvingly at me.

“Well thought. Yes, it is safe. There are very few people who can get around my wards or break them in the way that would be needed. The Headmaster and the High Inquisitor are not among that select group. Nor is the Dark Lord.”

“He’s not the only one. Riddle, I mean.”

“Elucidate.”

“There is more than one dark lord out there right now. Sure, Tom Riddle is one and is everyone’s chief concern right now. But that’s a mistake, there are two others alive and working right now, that I know of.”

The music changed to a darker, more melancholy tune.

“Of whom do you speak?”

“Well, Grindelwald is still alive, isn’t he? And his defeater is still with us.”

“Indeed, and you believe …”

“… that the defeater of Grindelwald is no Lord of the Light.”

“You do realise how seditious that thought is?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t make it any less true. Anyway, that’s why I think the Headmaster has treated me the way he has—including putting me in Little Whinging—he has some plan for me that is not helped by my independence.”

“And what do you think this plan is about?”

“The defeat of his competitors, so that he can rule the Dark and Light at the same time.”

“Say nothing of these thoughts to anyone except me, unless I let you know that they are safe. It is also imperative that you learn occlumency quickly. You must keep these thoughts away from the possibility of discovery. Weapon, hero, or not, you would not survive the discovery.”

“Sir, Professor Flitwick said something similar to us when we discovered the magical affinity. He said that if the leaders of either side found out, we would just be used regardless of the consequences to us.”

“He’s quite correct. Now, the time I told the Headmaster that I was meeting with you is up, so it’s time for you to head back to your Chamber.”

“Umm, before I do, I’m worried about Ron. He seems to think that Mr. Weasley only came up to the school today because of Ginny. I tried to tell him that that wasn’t true, but I didn’t want to hear me. I know his confidence has never been particularly great, but this is the worst since I’ve known him.”

“I’m aware that young Mr. Weasley has been having some problems. I will look into things and see what I can do to help him. Now, you may use the floo to go up to your Common Room. It’s a little too close to curfew for you to make it back in time through the corridors.”

He held out a container of floo powder.

“Thank you, sir, for your time. I’ll see you in class tomorrow afternoon. Ravenclaw Common Room.”

I tripped as I left the Ravenclaw fireplace and ended up rolling into a group of Third-Year students who were gathered around Bradley.

“Whoops, sorry about that. I don’t like floo travel and I’m hopeless at arriving gracefully. Did I hurt anyone?”

A couple of them had looked like they wanted to be angry, but they calmed after my words.

“How ever you manage to be so graceful on a broom, yet …” said Bradley without any malice in their voice.

I waved my hand, “well, look at Victor Krum. He’s not exactly graceful on the ground either.”

“Although he did dance beautifully with Granger at the ball.”

I groaned. “Please, don’t remind me of that ball. One of the worst moments in a life full of them. I doubt Patil will ever forgive me.”

They laughed, then turned back to the Charms tutorial that Bradley was giving them, while I headed up to our room and my desk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The alert levels have been dropped back, so I'm back on public transport again from Monday. Which means I get my main writing time back. Hopefully, I'll be able to get back to weekly postings as a result.


	37. Starlight, Starbright

Wednesday 18 September

I was awake in an instant. Something was different somehow. Then I sensed it, someone was trying to break the ward on our door.

I cast a tempus charm. It was twenty-past-three. I groaned. I’d only been asleep for a couple of hours after catching up on my assignments. I could hear the others moving about, so I got up and pulled a sweatshirt on over my pyjamas.

“What’s happening?” asked Neville in a low voice.

“Someone’s trying to get in through the wards on the door,” said Justin.

“At this time of night? Who would do that?”

“Well it’s not someone with our best interests at heart.”

“Ouch!” we all yelled at the same time as we felt something lash against us.

Then Malfoy muttered, “more blood.”

“Dobby,” I called.

There was no response.

“Anti-house elf ward has been put up,” said Justin.

“How do we find out who it is?” asked Neville.

“Brooms,” said Malfoy as he opened a window.

“Gotcha,” and I raced over to where we kept our brooms. “I’ll go and wake Calvin.”

“No!” yelled Neville urgently. “If either of you leave, we won’t have enough power left here to keep the wards up.”

“He’s right,” said Justin. “The wards are linked to the four of us as a group.”

“But aren’t they linked to Professor Flitwick as well?”

“Yes, but not in the same way. He will have been alerted, but he might not be able to get here either. The ward link to us is different because we live in this room and identify it as home.”

The feeling of being whipped came again as whoever it was lashed at the wards.

“Justin, where was that rune for agreement put?”

He guided Draco to the spot on the lintel.

He put up his hand to touch it gently, then said, “Lady Hogwarts, we seek your help in discovering who this intruder might be.”

There was a feeling of testing magic that washed briefly over me, checking my agreement with Malfoy’s request. Then the door shimmered for a moment showing three shadowy figures before it went solid again.

“I don’t have enough power to keep this open by myself. I need some help.”

“Take off your shirt,” said Justin as he stripped his off as well. Then he turned so that his back was to Malfoy and gently leant back so that their skin was just touching—back to back. “Try again,” he ordered.

The door shimmered again and held translucent. We could make out the figures to be Umbridge, Edgecombe, and the Sixth-Year prefect—Rudyard Powley.

As we watched, Umbridge directed Powley to use a reducto on the door. It shook in its frame but held.

“Lady Hogwarts, this is too dangerous for us. We request your aid.”

A moment later, the floor of the corridor bubbled, writhed and then flattened out again, leaving the three in the corridor lying in a heap. Powley was on top of the heap and had a hand high up on Umbridge’s thigh. He quickly removed it with a horrified look on his face before clambering to his feet.

There was a sound of a pop in the room beside us and Dobby appeared. At the same time Anaï and Flitwick arrived in the corridor.

“Is Master Draco and Master Harry Potter and Masters’ great and wonderful friends being okay?” gabbled Dobby in his most squeaky worried tones.

“Yes, Dobby. We are relieved to see that you were able to get in. We were worried that you might have been hurt when you couldn’t get through the special ward they put up.”

Dobby’s eyes leaked in response to this, but he held himself together and clicked his fingers to take over the door magic from Justin and Draco. He added the listening spell as well and we heard the end of Flitwick’s question.

“… doing Dolores at this time of night?”

“I have good reason to believe that there are illegal objects in this room.”

“Illegal objects?” he replied mildly. “Oh, dear. And what would they be in this particular case?”

“Never you mind, it is enough that I tell you that they are illegal.”

“No, it is not enough. I am appointed by Magic and Lady Hogwarts as Head of Ravenclaw House. I take that appointment seriously and I abjure you to tell me what allegedly illegal objects you believe to be harboured in a Chamber within my House.”

Her face worked as she tried to get around saying anything. Just when it seemed like she would burst from the effort, she turned sharply, lifted her stubby wand to shoulder height and then went to slash down with it at our door. We flinched in anticipation, but nothing happened. A projection on the wall behind her had caught her arm and she was unable to move it.

Draco snickered. “Thank you, Hogwarts.” A soft bell tinkled in response.

“Anaï, would you please be so kind and pop into the room and see if the young gentlemen are awake?”

“Yaas, Maaster Flittywick.”

And a moment later he was standing beside us. He quickly worked some magic and we found ourselves in our old beds. I took off my sweatshirt and was pretending to grope around for my glasses when the door opened, and Professor Flitwick poked his head around it. When he saw we were stirring, he came in.

“I’m so sorry to disturb your sleep, gentlemen, but Professor Umbridge believes you are harbouring a nefarious criminal.”

She huffed in the background, “that’s not what I said.” And her bulbous toad eyes darted around the room drinking everything in.

“I really can’t see anything or anyone who shouldn’t be here, can you Dolores?”

I spotted Marietta trying to indicate where she’d left the listening device, but as Neville had destroyed it there was nothing to be seen.

Anaï reappeared. “Headmaaster stuck in Common Room, Maaster Flittywick.”

“Thank you, Anaï.”

Meanwhile Justin had been attempting to talk to Powley. “Sir? I think Mr. Powley is under some kind of compulsion charm. His eyes are glazed, and he can’t maintain the flow of a conversation.”

Flitwick waved his wand in a question mark pattern and carefully watched the play of light over Powley.

“You are quite right, Mr. Finch-Fletchley. He is indeed under a version of the Imperio. This one looks to be blood-based—much like happened to Mr. Sneyd. Any thoughts as to how this might have come about, Dolores?”

She blustered for a moment, then said sharply, “are you accusing _me_ of casting an Unforgiveable Curse?”

“Oh no, of course not. That would be a very untoward thing to do to the High Inquisitor. I was merely wondering if you had any ideas. It is a serious thing to find students under compulsions. We’ll have to take Mr. Powley to St. Mungo’s to raise it from him. It would be good to find out where it came from and what type of blood was used.”

He looked at us with a quelling glance to make sure we didn’t say anything about it.

Instead Neville piped up, “sir, I’m not sure that Ms. Edgecombe should be in here. Particularly at this time of night.”

“Professor Flitwick, why do these boys have such strong wards on their door? No other students have them.”

Malfoy and I exchanged looks. Yup, she had just admitted to entering the chambers of other students.

It was Malfoy who answered her in his snottiest voice. “My father has always insisted that I should have strong wards on my Chambers. It is especially important now that we have the Heirs of two leading Families in this chamber.”

“Two?”

“The Longbottom and Malfoy heirs. Does that not make two?”

“And what about Mr. Potter?” she asked slyly. “Is he not also an Heir?”

“I’m sorry, Professor, but do you really expect _me_ to keep up with the changes in the Light families? However, as fascinating as this discussion is, now is neither the place nor the time. I and my companions would like the opportunity to return to the sleep that was interrupted in such an untimely hour.”

Between Flitwick and Anaï our nocturnal visitors were herded out of our room. As the house elf left, he deliberately pressed his left hand on the door frame just above the catch and then closed the door gently behind him. We heard the lock snick into place and felt the wards flare back up just as Dobby popped back into view.

He snapped his fingers twice and scowled down at the floor. We found ourselves back in our proper room. Justin silently picked up Draco’s shirt and handed it to him.

“Oh, I hadn’t noticed I wasn’t wearing it. This is strange, I’ve never felt comfortable with my shirt off around other people before. You lot must be having a bad influence on me.”

“Maybe. But I’ll tell you who _is_ having a bad influence, and that’s Edgecombe.”

“Yes, but it’s Umbridge who is using her at the moment.”

“Dobby, could you please arrange a cup of Anaï’s special tea for each of us?” I asked. “We really do need to get back to sleep.”

“Anything for great Master Harry Potter and his kind and wonderful friends.”

He clicked his fingers and a cup of steaming liquid was on each of our bedside cabinets. Another click and our beds were re-made and turned down ready for us.

A chorus of thanks greeted him, and we stumbled to our beds.

“Good night, all,” came from Justin and me at the same time, and with a short laugh we fell into our beds, closed the curtains, and attempted to go back to sleep.

After a while my bladder demanded attention, so I hauled myself up again and passed Justin padding out of the bathroom.

“Bladder?”

“Yup.”

“Still on for a run?”

“Of course. Wake me if I’m asleep, eh?”

“Sure.”

I peed, washed my hands, and tried the mind-flying thing again. This time I fell asleep while doing a loop around the goal posts.

~~

McGonagall came past us during breakfast and told me to come to her office at nine o’clock.

“But Professor, I’m supposed to be in Divination then.”

“I’ll let Professor Trelawney know that you won’t be there,” was her only reply before sweeping away to talk to the Second-Year Gryffindors who were being rowdy about something.

I looked to the others, but they just shrugged.

“It’s probably that eye check,” said Malfoy.

“Oh, hadn’t though of that. I’m still not properly awake after last night’s interruption.”

“Actually, I reckon you’re lucky to get out of being in that incense for a double period,” said Neville with a yawn. “Particularly after the broken sleep. Took me for ever to get back to sleep.”

Murmurs of agreement came from the other two.

We completed our breakfast and departed in our various directions.

“See you in the gym after you get through this, Neville.”

He just waved a hand vaguely and I went to use the loo. Whatever diet this was that Justin had us on, had me needing to do number twos much more often than I used to.

It was a couple of minutes before nine when I got to McGonagall’s office. A middle-aged witch was chatting with her in a Germanic accent. Her robes were a comfortable brown colour and were topped by a friendly face that smiled gently at me through oval wire-rimmed glasses. I let out some tension that I didn’t know I was holding.

“Velcome Herr Potter. I believe you are in need off a checking of your vizzin.”

“Guten Morgen, Frau Augenartzt. Ja, das is richtig.”

“Ach, sie sprechen Deutsch. Und euer Akzent ist sehr gut.”

“Danke, aber ich spreche nur ein wenig.”

“Dot is just fine. I vould not expect you to know der medical vords any vey. Dey do not come up in der conversation, eh?”

I grinned at her.

“Now, come over here near de vindow so dat dere is light natural upon your face. Ja, das ist gut. Nun, take off de glasses. Look left … Look right … Und up … Now down. Ja. Relax now.”

She then cast a spell at my face that washed a series of coloured bands down across my eyes.

“Ach. Your vizzin is not good, is it? However, does glasses are schrecklich for you. I doubt dey haf effer been de right prescription. Minerva vos telling me dat you haf not effer had de proper ophthalmologic examinations, ja?”

I grimaced, then nodded.

“Aunt Petunia came home from the Chemist with them when the school teachers told her I need glasses. I think she found them in the odd bin.”

“Ja, very odd. I vill need to do exam de mundane vay. Please to open up your eyes vide. Ja, gut.”

And she put some drops in my eyes and picked up a metal tool, jiggled something and shone a light out of it into my eyes while she looked through the tool.

She hissed some numbers to herself.

“Haf you been punched in the face, vhile wearing de glasses?”

“Well, I play Quidditch. I’ve had a bludger to the face a couple of times.”

“Ja, dot I can see, but it does not explain all. Und you haf been struck about the occiput vith a heavy object. Probably metal, ja? Happened about six or seven years before.”

Aunt Petunia’s frying pan would explain that. And being a punching bag for Dudley and Piers would cover the rest. Uncle Vernon’s methods don’t touch the face.

“Can you tell that, just by looking into my eyes?”

“Oh, ja. De eyes are truly a vindow—not just to de soul—but to de health of a person. Now, I cannot solve your eyes vith de magic. Your retinas are too scarred and damaged. But I can fix you up vith a better prescription for de lenses.”

She pulled out a book and started leafing through it.

“Nein, too like a fräulein. Possible. Ja. Nein.”

As she said “ja” or “possible”, she tapped her wand on the page and there was a rattle on the desk beside her.

“Now ve haff some possible frames for you to dink about. I vill just spell them to temporarily have your prescription as an illusion, den you can look at dem on you in de mirror.”

There was one pair that I quite liked, but Professor McGonagall nixed them. “Remember, Mr. Potter, that you will need to play Quidditch in your glasses. Those would be impractical.”

“Ach ja, de Professor is qvite righr. Dose vould not vork.”

And she put them away.

I went through the others, but none of them felt like me. Then I realised that I was expecting something like my old ones, but Healer Augenartzt had not included anything with a heavy black plastic frame. When I commented on that, all she would say was, “Ach, dey vos zo wrong.” So I went back through the options again, but still none of them were right for me.

“Might I make a suggestion, Wilhelmina?” said Professor McGonagall.

“Ja, but ov course.”

“What about either of these?” and she pointed to a page in the catalogue.

“I had not dought ov dose for dey are rarely chosen, odder dan by lawyers and accountants. But you can try dem.”

The first pair was better, but still not quite there. The second pair, however, was perfect. They were metal frames in a deep blue—almost the same shade as our magic—and sat comfortably on my face as if they had always belonged there.

“These are just right,” I exclaimed, and the two women agreed.

The Healer took them back then retrieved some equipment out of her case. There was a grinding sound, a sharp crack and a small puff of purple smoke.

“Und dere ve are. Now I haff put on several charms, including vater repelling und unbreaking. Dey are all written in de booklet here. Now, de old vuns?”

“I’ll keep those,” I said. “As a memento.” But I knew I could well be pulling them out again if Dumbledore had his way and sent me back to the Dursley’s in the summer.”

“About payment,” I started to say.

“Ach, don’t you vorry about dat. I am avare dat de bills go to Griphook at de bank. Healer Steinmaus has contacted me all about it. Now, off you go about your day, while Minerva and I catch up.”

“Vielen dank, Frau Augenartzt. Sie waren sehr gnädig.”

“Und sie sind ein sehr höfflicher Junge. Auf Wiedersehen, Herr Potter.”

“Auf Wiedersehen. See you later, Professor.”

And I left them too it while I headed across to the gym. I was about thirty minutes early, so I got changed then pulled out the booklet on my glasses and read through it carefully. There were a couple of charms that needed me to activate them when I needed them, like a steam reduction charm for potions class. The clearness of the words on the page was amazing and I felt like smiling and crying at the same time. Why hadn’t Madam Pomphrey picked this problem up before?

The others arrived, got changed, then did a double take when they took in my new look.

“Whoa, they look great, Harry,” said Neville.

“And that blue? It’s perfect against your skin tones.” Malfoy, of course. He’s the only bloke I know that’s my age who would notice or care about that.

“We’ll have to fight off the groupies for you,” teased Justin.

We made our way into the gym and made the dojo bows to Stagnant. He sent us to do a warm up with skipping ropes.

“Now, no fancy stuff,” he warned. “Just straightforward skipping for five minutes.”

That didn’t sound too bad, but by the end of the second minute I was feeling exhausted. I tried to slow down a bit, but Stagnant was on to me immediately.

“No, keep up that pace. No excuses.”

We puffed our way through the third and fourth minutes and I sensed that the others were flagging as well, but we kept going somehow.

“And stop. Now drink that.” And he tossed us each a half-litre bottle of water.

While we were drinking, Stagnant got us moving across to the weights area and as soon s we were done drinking, we were put straight to doing our goblet squats while Malfoy and Justin were bench pressing.

The rest of the forty minutes moved quickly with Stagnant not letting up as we swapped and encouraged each other to squeeze out the reps.

“Good work all of you. Go and roll out your legs, then drink another half-litre of water before taking a five-minute sauna.”

We made the farewell bows and left to follow his instructions.

When we came out of the sauna we could see that the older guys had come in and already gone through—they didn’t seem to use the lockers. Justin muttered something about that being poor gym etiquette as it didn’t leave the benches available for others to use.

We took leisurely showers then dressed. Dobby flitted in and took away the used gear. It all felt normal and a far cry from the events of the night.

Lunch was a smoothie each. Mine was green, but it was kiwifruit flavoured this time. If there was spinach in there I didn’t notice.

~~

“Today you will be making the Starbright Solution. Can anyone tell me the primary purpose of this potion?”

Several hands went up, including Neville’s.

“Mr. Longbottom?”

“It’s used to promote health in children, particularly those who have come from difficult backgrounds.”

“Two points.” Then he shook his head as if he couldn’t believe he’d just given Longbottom points.

“Can anyone tell me the origin of its name?”

None of us knew that.

“It was named by researchers at Starship Children’s Hospital—a muggle hospital that has a concealed ward for magical maladies. The same team also developed the Starlight Solvent, which we will be making next term.

“The instructions are on the board. You will each be making the Solution, but you may collaborate in pairs for ingredient preparation. Begin.”

This time it was Justin and Malfoy on the front bench, with Neville and me behind them. It was very pleasant to not be squinting at the blackboard to read the instructions. Snape’s handwriting seemed to have improved dramatically, but I knew it was just that I could read it now.

Neville and Justin headed for the storeroom to gather the ingredients while Malfoy and I got the cauldrons set up. This potion started with a warmed-up, empty cauldron. We needed to toast some of the ingredients over a dry heat as part of their preparation.

“What did you get those for, Neville?” I asked as I pointed at the fanged geranium petals.

“Thought it best to hide the fact that we’ve got fresh ones. And the method asks for a lot, so I wanted to be sure we had enough.”

“Those vials that Sprout gave us have about a hundred in each.”

“Oh.” Then he shrugged. “We can always return the unused ones to the storeroom.”

In the meantime, I’d been peeling the outer layer off the cutty-grass stems before chopping them into one-inch lengths. Neville was doing the same with the _Leptospermum_ branchlets, carefully reserving the flowers and terminal leaflets.

The smell of musty Earl Grey tea came from in front as Draco started toasting the _Leptospermum_ flowers. I followed suit while Neville prepared and sliced some _Ipomoea_ roots.

The stems were the next to be toasted, then they were ground to a fine powder while the _Ipomoea_ slices were toasted. Everything was taken out of the cauldrons and a couple of litres of distilled water were added and brought up to a low simmer. Then we sprinkled the ground stems over the simmering water and let the powder mix itself through. The _Ipomoea_ roots were next. They dampened the simmering, so we adjusted the heat up a little to keep the potion simmering at a slow roll.

I looked around for the honey. “Neville? Where’s the honey?”

“Won’t need it.”

“Why?”

“I’ve got some pure manuka essence instead. Harvested it this morning while you two went for your run.”

Malfoy’s ears had obviously pricked up and he turned to us. “I’d not thought of doing that. Tell you what, we’ll do the honey version and you do the essence and we can compare the efficacy at the end.”

I shrugged. “Sure, but we’ll need to adjust the consistency, won’t we?”

“Shouldn’t need to. Two teaspoons of honey in that much water shouldn’t affect the consistency that much.”

We continued on through the instructions and the colour slowly changed from the golden shade of the _Ipomoea_ through an odd shade of lemon that looked more like urine than anything else until it went a delicated pink when the fanged geranium petals were stirred gently through.

It was probably the most complex potion we’d had to brew yet (excluding that Polyjuice in Second Year—and that had been Hermione far more than me), but it didn’t feel like it because everything was done gently and gradually. It was a soothing process and I began to see why Malfoy and Snape liked brewing so much.

At the point when Snape called out “ten minutes to go,” we were both ready to decant the Solution and, a minute later, Justin and Draco were doing the same.

“Leave some for testing,” said Malfoy.

“What testing?” came from Professor Snape as he walked past us.

Malfoy quickly explained about the essence and honey. Snape looked intrigued.

“You four are surprising even me. What difference did it make in the process?”

“Very little, sir. We started the toasting about a minute after them and were ready to decant about a minute before. I assume the difference was that we didn’t have to wait for the manuka to dissolve before moving to step eleven.”

“What made you think of this, Mr. Longbottom?”

“Some people, like myself, aren’t fond of the flavour of manuka honey. Although I realise that may be because the real product is very rare and the market is often filled with fakes and pretenders. Anyway, I recall reading in the _Proceedings _of last year’s Australasian Herbology Conference of an analysis of the properties of the honey and comparing them with the original pollen. The paper suggested that the sugars in the honey didn’t add anything to the medicinal properties.”

Snape gave him a look that bordered on respect.

“Well, to testing then Draco.”

Malfoy pulled out a set of test tubes that had something in the bottom of them already and an eyedropper. He carefully sucked out a few drops of the potion from his cauldron and dribbled them into one of the tubes. He repeated this with each of our potions. Then he capped the test tubes and shook them to combine the stuff in the bottom with the potion.

“Fairly much identical, with a slightly better profile on mine and Longbottom’s.”

“Mr. Longbottom, you will write this up.”

The bell rang and quickly finished cleaning up our workstations before heading out to our room. I’d already determined that we needed a potions tutorial from Malfoy.

As we passed the Third-Year Gryffindor and Slytherin students waiting outside, we were greeted by them. A couple of the bolder ones stopped Malfoy and thanked him again for the lesson on Blood Replenishing potions.

“We all did real well on the test that Professor Snape gave us on Friday, even those of us who ain’t very good at this stuff did good.”

“Well that’s very pleasing to hear. Of course, you’ll need to remember it for longer than a couple of days.”

They were going to reply, but Snape called them in to the classroom and they hurried to obey.


	38. Slicing the Kumara

We got up to our room and took turns to use the loo. Malfoy was last and when he came back in, he found all three of us looking at him expectantly.

“What?”

“Potions tutorial this afternoon,” said Justin.

“But you had one last week.”

“Yeah, but that was Third-Year basics. What we want now is to understand something of what you did this afternoon. That testing kit was set up for that potion, right?”

“Yes and no. It wasn’t set up specifically for Starbright Solution, rather it’s set up for testing healing potions in general.”

“Show us?”

Malfoy agreed and pulled a leather pouch out of his bag. “I’ve got several of these. This is my favourite one, and the one I used this afternoon.”

He flicked at something on the side of it that revealed a row of lacing. On untying that, he was able to unroll the pouch across the desk. There were dozens of pockets of various sizes in it filled with ingredients and equipment.

“This is amazing, Draco. The charmwork alone …” he broke off to shake his head. “Expansion, weightless, undetectable, self-returning, and some of the pockets have automatic replenishing charms. There’s even an ownership repelling charm. I’ve only seen that once before—on a trunk in that junk shop next to Gladrags.”

“Wow, no wonder it’s a favourite,” said Neville.

“Yeah,” said Malfoy casually. “Uncle Severus brought it back from the International Potions Conference in Barcelona a couple of years ago and gave it to me for my birthday. It already had some of the stuff in it. The rest I’ve gradually built up as I can afford it from my allowance.”

“This is more than a testing kit, though,” I said. “Other than a cauldron, this is a complete field potions kit.”

He got a funny look on his face.

“Well, odd you should say that.”

He tapped a blank space in the middle of the strip of leather with his wand and said, “aerarius.” A small bronze cauldron appeared.

“That took two months’ allowance to add. The kit came with a pewter one, but I wanted an alternative and decided on bronze. Also, the crystal and silver options were far too expensive, and I wouldn’t need them anywhere near as often—particularly out in the field.

“Anyway, you were asking about the testing-kit. There are three different ones here. This one,” and he pointed to an area outlined in green, “is the one I was using this afternoon.”

There was an array of test-tubes, crucibles and eye-droppers, along with vials of variously coloured substances.

“Now, I had some reagent in the bottom of those test-tubes. The reagent is compounded from these ingredients. When I put a bit of the potion into the test-tube, the reagent reacts by changing colour. The depth of the colour indicates the efficacy.”

“Is that how Snape tests our potions for grading?”

“Sometimes. But, as a Potions Master, he’s been trained to use other methods as well. When he was doing his apprenticeship, he had to spend a lot of time mucking up potions and then testing them to see what the differences were. That’s why he was able to tell immediately that you hadn’t sliced the valerian root thinly enough for the Draught of Living Death.”

“Okay, so this afternoon?”

“The reaction in the test tubes for all our potions was exactly right, it’s just that the colour saturation was one shade better in Neville’s and mine. That’s part of what you’re going to need to talk about, in your write up of using essence instead of honey.”

“Mention of the Draught of Living Death reminds me,” I said. “What was that thing you were doing, when you twirled the stirring rod above the cauldron?”

“It’s a somewhat controversial technique. The idea is that it pulls the vapours rising off the surface of the potion into a coil. Sometimes the vapours are poisonous, and you want to get rid of them, so bringing them together like that makes it easier to capture them.”

“But couldn’t an extractor fan do the same?”

“Yes, but there are other times when the vapours are the point of the potion and you want to capture them. Pulling them together like that makes it easier.”

“You said it was controversial?” queried Justin.

“Yes, there are all-out battles in some of the journals about whether it does anything or not. Remember that a stirring rod is made of an inert material and has no magic imbued in it. I don’t use the technique for most potions work. But remember that a core property of valerian is that it promotes sleep. At the late simmering stage the concentration of valerian in the vapours is at its highest and I didn’t want either Potter or myself to be affected with such a short time-frame left. Remember also, that we had extremely thin slices of valerian root, so that pretty much all of the molecules had been released. That’d made the potion and the vapour very potent. By twirling the stirrer and then plunging it straight through the middle of the coil of vapour I pulled some of the escaping valerian back into the potion.”

“So, how did you get the slices so thin?”

“That was me,” I said. “One of the things I learned early on while cooking for the Dursleys was the importance of a sharp knife. I keep my potions knives very sharp. Then it’s a matter of controlling the knife. Let me show you.”

I pulled out my knives and a chopping board. I called Dobby and asked him to bring some sweet potato. I also got him to raise my desk so that it was a comfortable height to work at.

“Can I stay and watch, Great Master Harry Potter?”

“Of course. Why don’t you sit on this stool so that you can see better?”

He looked about to burst into tears, and I spoke quickly to forestall him.

“Dobby, we’ve been through this before. You sitting down in our presence is not offensive to us. In fact, you will offend us if you don’t.”

There was a rasped intake of breath before he controlled himself and hopped up on to the stool. The others arranged themselves so that they could see what I was doing. I then talked about never letting the point of the knife come up off the board, but using it as a pivot point.

I commented that I felt like a TV chef on _Ready, Steady, Cook_ and sliced one of the tubers at full speed, then grabbed another and slowed my actions down to about half-speed.

“I can’t go any slower than this without messing up my rhythm, but hopefully you see what I’m doing. Also, if I go slow, then the slices become uneven. While that’s fine, if you’re making a rustic salad, it doesn’t work if the slices are going to be fried or boiled. They need to all be the same thickness. It’s the same for potions.”

“When I sliced up the sweet potato earlier for the Starbright Solution,” put in Neville. “I don’t think I was all that even.”

“That didn’t matter for that potion. The instructions even said to cut into roughly quarter inch slices. If Snape had meant them to be even, he wouldn’t have used the word ‘roughly’.”

“Yes. And the intention was that they would mush down in the potion anyway. The _Ipomoea_ is there to provide a stable background.”

“So why sweet potato and not ordinary potato?” asked Justin.

“Sweet potato comes from _Convolvulaceae_ while ordinary potatoes are in _Solanaceae_,” said Neville.

“And?”

“Most solanaceous plants are poisonous to humans at some point in their development. They are, after all, known commonly as the nightshade family.”

“So, using potatoes in a potion that will be consumed is rarely done,” said Malfoy. “Also, their starch component often dominates, which causes other problems.”

I started to clean my knife then heard a screech.

“What is Great Master Harry Potter doing?”

“Cleaning my knife, Dobby.”

“No, that is being very wrong. I am your House Elf and cleaning is my job. Great Master Harry Potter must not be cleaning his knives.”

And he looked like he would launch himself across the room at me to take it off me.

“Dobby, does Professor Snape let any house elf clean his knives?”

“No,” he said dubiously.

“Did Mistress Narcissa let you or any of the other elves clean her potions equipment?”

“No, but it is not the same thing. They are not important.”

“Yes, they are,” I said firmly. “They are my guardian, and I should follow what they do.”

“Dobby, did you just say that my mother and godfather are not important?” said Malfoy in a dangerous voice.

Dobby’s face took on a look of panic as he realised what he’d done. He leapt off the stool and fell to his knees in front of Malfoy.

“Dobby is very sorry for his careless words, Master Draco. They was thoughtless and very bad of Dobby to say. Dobby must punish himself.”

“No. I forbid you to punish yourself without either my or Master Harry’s direct permission. Not even Anaï can tell you. I will punish you, instead. You are not allowed to prepare the room tonight. You are also not allowed to do anyone’s laundry for twenty-four hours.”

Dobby sniffled while he tried to work out a way around Draco’s orders. In the meantime, I put my knives and board away while vanishing the sweet potato.

Dobby felt the magic of the last and whipped around. “You is punishing me, too,” and he looked forlorn.

“No, Dobby, we will not punish you twice for the same bad behaviour. I am the only one who is allowed to touch my knives, which means that I am the only who will clean them and look after them. If they get blunt, then it is my fault. If they tarnish, then it is my fault and no-one else’s.”

“But you vanished the kumara, that is my job.”

“Kumara?” asked Malfoy.

“New Zealand word for sweet potato,” said Justin.

The warning gong for dinner chimed and we hurried to tidy ourselves and change the contents of our bags ready for Astronomy.

~~

At dinner I could see Dumbledore looking at me meaningfully, but I ignored him along with all the nudges and whispers from people around me as they talked about my new glasses.

“Honestly, I don’t care,” I muttered to Justin, who was sitting beside me this time. “Better they’re doing that, than assessing my mental state and believing Skeeter’s latest lies.”

“True.” Then he put his head on one side and said in a higher pitch than usual, “you know, he looked right at me? He’s never done that before. Do you think he fancies me? I mean, you know?”

“Where did you get that voice from?” I laughed.

“My sister has friends who are aspiring to move to Beverly Hills and work for Aaron Spelling. Because, you know, it would just be so, you know, right for me, like.”

There were no announcements of importance and we were dismissed. We headed to the Astronomy Tower with a loo break on the way.

When we got to the open area at the bottom of the stairs, everyone was milling around chatting, just like last week.

Professor Sinistra came down the stairs at eight o’clock, just as Umbridge’s footsteps could be heard coming up behind us.

We quickly moved out of the way, ready to watch the battle.

“Aurora, dear, are you having problems with these recalcitrant students?”

“No, Dolores darling. No problems of their or my making whatever.”

Umbridge wasn’t quick enough to pick up the veiled dig and continued, “but why are they standing around here instead of up on the tower?”

Sinistra’s eyes narrowed at the implication that her class consisted of standing around and said, “because today’s planned lesson doesn’t require them to be on the tower.” And she pointed her wand at the classroom door, which sprang open.

We filed in and heard Sinistra say, “good night Dolores, enjoy the remainder of your evening,” before shutting the door in her face.

She moved to the front of the room, turned and grinned at us. “Technically I didn’t lie just then. I just moved a lesson forward from later in the year. It does mean, though, that we’ll have to be up there on a couple of cloudy nights later—when she’s fixed that ridiculous decree.

“Now, I understand that this week you’ve been brewing the Starbright Solution. As part of the discussion Professor Snape will have mentioned the Starlight Solvent. As a part of brewing this, you will need to expose it to starlight in a location with no other light—particularly moonlight.

“This lesson would normally come in the week before you brew. However, this evening we can look at how to work out the ideal time to start the brewing process so that the light exposure point comes at the right moment. We will also discuss how starlight works to potentiate the potion, if you’ll excuse the pun.”

And we were away calculating Moon cycles and when Orion and Aldebaran would be in the sky together, but away from the planets.

“Of course, in the Southern Hemisphere, where this potion was initially created, there is constellation that is always available, and the potion can be brewed on most days of the month. Orion is often in the sky at the same time as the Southern Cross, but never in the same quadrant.”

Hermione’s hand went up and she was called on.

“What happens if it’s a cloudy night?”

“There are two consecutive nights that meet the requirements next term and you will be aiming for the first with the second as a reserve. Should the second night be cloudy as well, we will be working with the appropriate Department of the Ministry to deal with that magically. It’s the only time each ear that we are allowed to manipulate the weather.”

Malfoy put his hand up. “I think I’ve worked out the two days.”

She came across and looked at his calculations. “Yes, exactly right. Before I award points, anyone else?”

“I keep coming out with days that are too far apart,” said Susan Bones. “Like a gap of four days between.”

“Ah,” she said with a smile. “That sounds like the days in May. That’s too late as you’ll be studying furiously and starting exams then. Anyone else?”

Hermione said ruefully, “I thought I had it, but then I realised that last night is the day I’ve calculated.”

“Yes, but tonight won’t work as a second day. We’re already six days from the new moon and the moon won’t set late enough tonight.”

“And by the time it does, Mars will have risen,” finished Hermione.

“Alright then, the ten points belong to Mr. Malfoy instead of being split.”

She then led us in a discussion on how starlight works to modify potions.

“Your assignment this week is to review your calculations and come up with the correct pair of dates for having the Starlight Solvent ready for exposure. You will need to add some explanation of your calculations. Eighteen inches should be sufficient for this.”

Before we left the classroom, I quickly checked the Marauder’s Map.

“She’s lying in wait at the bottom of Stairwell Seven,” I muttered. It was the most common route for students departing the Astronomy Tower. “Pass the word.”

We split up and the Gryffindors used Stairwell Nine, which was only slightly out of the way, while the rest of used Six before going our separate ways once we were a floor below her.

Our room appeared undisturbed and I could fee the tingle of House Elf magic as we came through the door.

“Looks like Dobby has added a couple of extra protections. Hopefully we won’t be disturbed tonight,” said Malfoy.

Justin stretched, then stripped off. “Phooof, that’s felt like a long day. I’m turning in now for a leisurely wank to help me clear my mind and drop off to sleep.”

I looked startled at him and could see that his dick was already rising.

“Thank you for sharing that, Finch-Fletchley. Don’t forget the silencing charms,” said Draco as he pulled his curtains.

Neville paused, then shook his head resolutely and went behind his own curtains.

“Enjoy,” was my only word.

“Oh, I shall. Good night.”

I cleared my mind with seeker evolutions and fell asleep quickly.

~~

**Thursday 19 September**

My alarm woke me, and I had a moment of disorientation when I grabbed my glasses. They had the wrong feel under my hands and when I put them on everything was sharp without blurry edges. I hadn’t realised just how different the world really is compared to what I had thought.

I heard movement and popped my head out of the curtains in time to see Justin pulling on a jockstrap. I’d never worn one and wondered what they were like to wear. I made a mental note to get a couple whenever it was that I got round to buying some new clothes.

We pulled our t-shirts on, took a quick detour via the loo, then went up for our run.

When we came back through the Common Room, our six boys were standing around looking sad and mopey.

“What’s up?” Justin asked.

“Louis’s got to go back to his ship today. His week’s break is over.”

“It’s been so much fun having him here. I’d forgotten how great it is to have an older brother who understands our magic and actually cares.”

“He kinda adopted all of us as his little brothers. He’s promised to keep in touch with all of us, but you know …”

Yes, Arnold Samuel probably did know. Kid had been abandoned by his parents and then the first foster parents. After that he’d been moved through seven families in two years while the Welfare tried to work out what to do with him. At least it hadn’t turned him bitter.

“We’ve had so much going on, that I’d forgotten that it was a week already,” I said.

“Give us ten minutes to shower and grab our stuff for class. Then we’ll come down to breakfast with you,” offered Justin. “After all, you have us four as older brothers too, you know.”

With that we headed to our room and quickly explained to Neville and Malfoy why we were rushing.

We were showered, dressed, and prepared for Transfiguration and Spell Creation in nine minutes flat. The ten of us formed a convoy and went down to breakfast as a group. Justin got the boys chattering about their favourite bands and types of music.

Tyrone Jordan was into hip-hop to no-one’s surprise. Piet was torn between Metal and Classical string quartets, while Andrew preferred gamelan music.

“I know, I know, it’s a stereotype, but the Western music scale is so limited.”

“What do you mean?” asked Buggins.

And they were away in a classic Ravenclaw discussion about the various scales in world music.

We got to the Great Hall just as Dumbledore left through the staff door, so we went down the table and sat with the boys and the rest of the Second and Third Years and continued the discussion. Or rather it was Malfoy and Justin who contributed, while Neville and I mostly listened.

“Mr. Potter, I wonder if I might have a word?”

It was Professor McGonagall. I rose and followed her up the Hall towards the main doors.

“The Headmaster was unable to return to his breakfast and was becoming quite peevish about it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. He was leaving as we arrived, so we assumed …”

“Quite understandable. Don’t worry about it, but as you appeared to have completed your breakfast, I thought it best to have you move. I will see you in class shortly.”

And she left me in the Foyer while she went to reprove a group of Fourth Year Hufflepuffs who were complaining loudly about a Potions class.

Louis and Snape came up into the Foyer and I was beckoned over.

“Mr. Potter …”

I gave him a look.

“Alright then, Harry. Thank you so much for getting me this weeks’ vacation and the chance to spend it with Andrew.”

“It was my pleasure. You are important to him.”

“And him to me. Now, we must say farewell. Severus is going to get me back to Tilbury Dock where I’m joining one of the other ships before being returned to the _Royal Viking Sun_. I never learnt to apparate, so I need his help. Fireplaces on the floo network are not frequent in Dockside.”

I laughed. “Nor in the depths of Surrey.”

We shook hands and then I watched him slip quickly out the front door with Snape. The others joined me shortly after.

“What did McGonagall want?” asked Neville.

“Dumbledore couldn’t get back in to breakfast and Louis wanted to say goodbye.”

“I wonder if Snape’s going to miss him as much as the boys will,” grinned Justin.

“It’s a good thing that he’s gone with Louis to take him side-along and that he has no chance of overhearing you say that.”

“Indeed,” said Malfoy in such a good imitation of Snape’s voice, that Neville and I looked around expecting to see him.

Justin looked like he was going to high-five Draco but caught himself in time. I doubted Draco would understand the Muggle action.

“Come on, let’s get up to Transfiguration. What were we going to start on?”


	39. Cinderella's Coach

Although we’d been doing animate to inanimate transfigurations all through our years at Hogwarts so far, the lesson was made considerably more challenging by the fact that we were changing something small into something larger.

Beetles to buttons, rats to bottles and turtles to snuff-boxes or cigarette cases, weren’t that difficult because they were about the same size. Which meant that the amount of matter was similar.

Today we were tasked with turning mice into chairs, and not dolls-house chairs, but something that we could sit on. So, as part of the series we had to visualise the change in size as well as the change in form.

It was while I was thinking through these changes, I suddenly said, “Yes, Cinderella, you shall go to the ball.”

“What?”

“Whoops, I didn’t realise I said that aloud.”

“What brought that on?” asked Justin.

“It’s just dawned on me that the Fairy Godmother in Cinderella was a witch doing transfiguration.”

“A wizard in drag, actually,” drawled Malfoy. “But, yes, he was doing transfiguration.”

“How do you know about Cinderella, Harry? The story is a wizarding one,” asked Neville.

“Muggle too. Been turned into a movie several times and is staged every year as a Pantomime. But it’s the Wicked Stepmother and her two daughters who are usually men in drag.”

I corralled a couple of mice that were attempting a gaol break.

“Muggles really do get things twisted, don’t they?” then he flicked his wand at a mouse, and it morphed into a bar stool about five centimetres tall that started walking across the desk.

Neville’s mouse had acquired a William Morris upholstery pattern, but was otherwise unchanged, while mine looked up at me and started washing its face.

Justin managed to get a plain wooden chair, but it was the size of the mouse.

We laughed together, cancelled, and tried again with no further success.

Greg came across to us carrying a plastic stacking chair.

“Do you think this is right?” he asked.

Justin looked and nodded. “Absolutely, Goyle. Have you let Professor McGonagall know?”

“Not yet, didn’t want to until I was sure.”

Malfoy called her attention to us.

“What an excellent example, Mr. Goyle. Five points for being the first and five points for good work.”

He flushed bright red. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Thank you, P’fessor.”

A cry of disgust came from Parkinson as a mouse shat in her hand and McGonagall’s attention was taken away from us.

“Sit down with us, Greg, and explain your visualisation,” I invited.

He looked carefully at the others for their agreement, then sat on his conjured chair. He went through the steps of his visualisation for us and then demonstrated on one of our mice. It went through the evolution exactly the way he had described it and about ten seconds later there was an identical chair to the one he was sitting on.

“How did you do that Greg? That’s amazing.”

“Dunno. It’s like a switch got turned in my head when Po — Harry explained the teaset thing to me last week.”

“Can you undo that one, so that Harry can have his mouse back to work on?” asked Neville with a grin.

“O’ course.”

A few seconds later I had a mouse back in front of me and went to work to imitate Greg’s explanation translated into Harry-think.

Justin was the next to have a chair that he could sit on—a plain wooden kitchen chair. Neville followed with a chintz covered armchair that I suspected would not be out of place in his grandmother’s parlour.

Not to be outdone, Malfoy managed a pair of Chippendale dining chairs that would deceive a furniture expert on _Antiques Roadshow_.

I thought carefully, then stood up. My desk became the bar in a New York speakeasy and the mouse a pair of barstools in front of it.

“Good thing Seamus isn’t here to see that one,” commented Neville. “He’d be weeping that there isn’t a barman behind the counter.”

McGonagall came across and identified which transfiguration belonged to who, shook her head at me and said, “I’m glad that Mr. Finnegan is not here. He’d be sitting at the bar and loudly demanding fire-whiskey.”

We laughed and explained that Neville had basically said the same thing. We each got five points and then undid our transfigurations, putting the mice back in their cage.

On turning our attention to the rest of the room, our classmates were at various stages. Blaise was seated in a large rocking-chair looking content with the world and Cho had produced a Mah-jong table with four stools around it. Parkinson’s mouse was quivering in fear and Ron had turned his into a ragged looking rug.

I heard a snort from Greg and turned to look at him enquiringly.

“I wonder what t’ hat was thinking when it put some of ’em in Slytherin. A good Slytherin has imagination, but Pansy, Weasley, Patil and Brown ain’t got none, ’ave they?”

“Nor any understanding of how to get help to develop it,” was Malfoy’s acid remark.

“Well, Parkinson and Brown have got some, but it focuses solely around how to look pretty and which bloke would look best on their arm.”

At that moment Lavender gave a squeal of delight as an elegant chaise longue in Louis XIV style appeared in front of her.

“Fingers off, Brown,” said Adams. “Not made for you.”

She pouted, “but D’Ath darling, I thought we were …”

“Over, Brown. Remember, we broke up last night on the way back from Astronomy. It was fun while it lasted, but I need more in my relationships than a willing twat.”

“Ouch,” said Neville and Justin together.

“Well, now that she’s tried for all the men in our year at some point, I suppose she’ll start working on the next group,” said Malfoy.

I found myself feeling jealous that she’d tried for any of us. I wondered briefly where that had come from.

“Shall we have a group effort? The five of us?” suggested Justin.

“What shall we try for?” asked Neville.

“Well, Harry was talking about Cinderella, right?”

“Yeah?” I said cautiously.

“Well, let’s do the carriage. Desk to carriage, two mice to be in the traces, one as coachman, one as footman, and one as passenger.”

We had a quick discussion on who would do which bit. Then, very carefully not touching each other, we worked together quickly. A few moments later a coach stood on one side of the room with two thestrals in the traces. The coach was a powder blue colour and had gilt chasing in ornate patterns over the edges and around the door. A leprechaun sat on the box with the reins gathered in one hand and a whip in the other, while climbing up onto the back was the squat figure of a house elf dressed in a tail-coat of the same blue colour as the coach. Looking out off the window and waving there was a demure maiden with golden tresses, dressed in a gown with an ivory-coloured satin bodice.

Pause for stunned silence from the rest of the class until Blaise broke into peals of uncontrolled laughter. Most of the others applauded and there was even the hint of a smile on the stern face of our Instructor.

The moment that the house elf footman reached its place and swung into position, the coachman gave a hoarse cry, cracked his whip, and the team started moving. The lead thestral reached the wall at the front of the classroom, then the construct broke up and we caught the mice while Justin moved the desk back to where it belonged.

“Well, I’m not sure what you were thinking of there …” started Professor McGonagall.

“Professor, both Cinderella and the coachman were seated, so we were fulfilling the assigned task—we just worked together.”

“Well, I hope you weren’t expecting points for that ostentatious display—particularly as I have already awarded each of you points for your, shall we say, less elaborate work.”

“Oh no, Professor. We were merely testing ourselves with what we could achieve in a co-operative version.”

“I hope you did not …”

“We were very careful to not cause a repeat of the illusionary transfiguration. None of us are minded to generate curses—intentional or non-intentional.”

“Very well.” Then she explained our written assignment due at the beginning of class on Tuesday before dismissing us.

Several people tried to get the reason for xyr laughter out of Zabini, but xe refused to say anything other than it was an excellent piece of work. I suspected that what xe found funny was the distinct similarity between Greg’s Cinderella and Vincent Crabbe. The poor guy really was missing his best friend.

Most of them went off to see Hagrid for their Care of Magical Creatures lesson, while we went across to Flitwick’s office.

~~

“Now, before we continue with your animal creation lessons, what have you discovered about wild magic and its control.”

“Wild magic is simply that. It’s the magic in the elements around us. It’s what keeps us, sustains us and the world on which we live,” started Justin.

“And what about the non-magical?”

“Wild magic sustains them as well—they just don’t realise it.”

“Some link it to their religion and have invented various deities to explain it,” I added. “I think the Semitic religions, particularly the Jewish, have probably come the closest to understanding the concepts without being magic users.”

“Explain.”

“Well, the concept of _Jehovah Jireh_ (the God who provides) is about the provision of what we creatures need to survive—air to provide oxygen, earth to provide sustenance, water to provide life, and fire to provide warmth and comfort.

“Then there’s _Jehovah Shammah_ (the God who is there) is about the immanence or presence of the creator with the created. Not only around, but also within. Sustaining the very atoms and molecules that make up our cells.

“And thirdly _Jehovah Rapha_ (the God who heals) is about the healing power of the elements. For the Jews, these are all, along with many other titles, aspects of the same deity. For magic users who understand that there is wild magic, we realise that they are all aspects of it.”

“That’s quite a synthesis, Harry,” said Justin. “You’ve picked up all sorts of things that I didn’t.”

I was embarrassed by the praise. “I just read a lot and it sinks in.”

“Yes, but I didn’t realise you were reading Hebrew texts as well.”

I shrugged and looked to Malfoy to say something.

“Mr. Potter’s put it in terms I hadn’t thought of, but the difference between magic users and those who don’t or can’t, is that we are able to use scraps of the wild magic to do things that seem otherwise miraculous.

“If we extend Potter’s commentary, the Christian religion grew out of the Jewish nearly two thousand years ago when a man, who must surely have been a magic user, initiated a new philosophical system and demonstrated it by performing acts of provision, sustaining and healing.

“Quite how he achieved the final miracle of resurrection following death by crucifixion, I’m not sure. The Draught of Living Death wasn’t created until the sixteenth century. The swooning theory doesn’t work and that of grave robbing is even less tenable.”

“And Mr. Longbottom, what do you have to add?”

“My focus was more on the idea of using a lens to capture and channel magic. Wands are a relatively recent tool among magic users—that’s not to say that they didn’t exist among magic users, as Homer records them in the _Iliad_—but they weren’t common. The hocus-pocus practitioners, even today, mostly just waved their hands about and this must have been in imitation of magic users they had witnessed working.

“When the four of us are working together we end up spontaneously creating a lens each time. It’s why, when Harry and Draco accidentally bumped their shoulders while using wands, they overpowered things. There was a double lens that time. No, actually a triple lens. The two wands and the point of contact.”

“And what about other lenses?”

“Well, staffs have been in use right throughout recorded history. The Jews record that magic staffs were used in the Egyptian court of the twelfth dynasty. Before that there are magic stones and the use of runes on cave walls is recorded from several places in Africa that are reputed to be the locations where our human species arose.

“Magic users appear to have needed some object to help them focus their use of magic right from the beginning of our discovery of it. It was only the strongest among them who were able to use magic without something to assist.”

“And it is the same today. Well done, all of you. You’ve certainly done some serious thinking and research on this matter and have discovered things that I hadn’t thought of.”

“Sir, is there a way to get Professor Binns replaced? He’s not updated his knowledge of the History of Magic since he died and that was literally a hundred years ago.”

“How did you find that out?”

“Granger got him to tell us that he celebrated the Diamond Jubilee a few months prior to his death, so 1897.”

“And there is much that we have learnt from this piece of study and in Ancient Runes that we should have learnt in History. We’re even getting more study of History from our Astronomy classes than we do in History itself.”

“Yes, he has become something of an institution, hasn’t he?”

“And, because he was teaching History here before he died, there is no-one who has attended Hogwarts in at least the last 130 years who hasn’t been taught by him. Most of them think that therefore it’s normal and that there is nothing that needs to be done.”

“I hadn’t realised it that was long. May I ask what in particular precipitated this query?”

“He’s been teaching us the plot of _Der Ring des Nibelungen_ as fact.”

“Oh dear, but surely … Oh, I see. If he hasn’t kept up with the changes in understanding of the Germanic literature, then he’ll still believe it to be true. Hmm. Off the top of my head, I’m not sure what can be done, but let me give this some thought and I’ll discuss with the other Heads.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Now, production of animals.”

We caught each other’s eyes and laughed. Then we had to explain to Professor Flitwick what we had just done at the end of Transfiguration with Gregory Goyle’s assistance.

“I’m sure Minerva was suitably startled and secretly amused and pleased with you.”

“I think so,” I said. “Her voice went very tart. That usually means she’s either trying not to laugh or to cry. I think it was the former.”

We headed to the classroom we’d used on Monday and under Flitwick’s instruction we formed our circle again. This time we started with a Shetland pony. We allowed it to wander around inside the circle for a few minutes but got rid of it just as it lifted its tail. Fresh horse droppings may well be useful in Herbology, but not in a classroom on the second floor on the other side of the castle.

“Now, you’re going to let your animal out of your circle, so make sure it’s something at least one of you knows how to control.”

We settled on a Highland Terrier. Just one this time. A moment later, I was being yapped at by a small white dog with a leash in its mouth.

“You want to go for a walk?”

It bounced with joy at the word walk, so I clipped the leash to its collar and lead it away from the others and allowed it to sniff around the various corners of the room that it thought were interesting.

“Alright, Mr. Potter, bring it back.”

I came back with the dog, reformed my part of the circle and we let it disappear.

“Alright, what did that feel like when Mr. Potter led the dog away from you?”

“It was a bit odd. I could feel the strand of my magic being pulled at,” said Neville.

Justin hummed agreement, then added, “and it didn’t matter if I had my eyes closed and blocked my hearing I always knew exactly where in the room it was.”

“I think with some practice, I would be able to pick up what it was sensing,” said Malfoy.

“So, a bit like with a familiar?” asked Neville. “I sometimes got vague sensations from Trevor, but because we had no way of communicating thoughts and no mutual way of seeing the world, I didn’t really understand them.”

We did the dog again, but this time it was Justin who took it for a walk while I stayed where I was. That way I could experience what they’d just done.

“I’m not sure I can explain it any differently than you did before,” I said when we’d vanished the dog again. “I need to think carefully about it. By the way, sir, I got the twins to order a projection stone for us four to use. I had thought of getting Griphook to send me one of the Pensieves from the family vaults, but decided in the end that here isn’t the best place for a family heirloom like that—particularly after the attempt to break into our room the other night.”

“Very sensible, Mr. Potter. Now for Monday’s lesson, I’d like you each to prepare an object that expresses something about the person that is sitting on your immediate left.”

Okay, so I need to do something about Neville.

“Keep it a secret until then. Off you go, then.”

We left talking generally about familiars.

It wasn’t until we were back in our room that I asked Malfoy about the nature of Crabbe and Goyle’s relationship.

“There isn’t really a word for it. They have a very deep, close friendship, but it’s never going to spill over into having sex. They’re closer than brothers or lovers. They need to touch, and they’ll hold hands or kiss, but they don’t turn each other on.”

“So, what’s the Hat up to by splitting them up this?”

“Well, would Greg have accomplished any of that if Vince was in the room? Would you have offered your help the other day? They need to find their own strengths and then share them together.”

We left the subject there and turned to getting started on our essays.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The word "bromance" didn't come into common use until the mid-2000s, so Harry and Draco wouldn't have known it to describe Crabbe and Goyle's relationship back in 1996.


	40. A Boggart Comes to Potions

“We hear you put on quite the display in Transfiguration this morning,” commented Bradley as they sat beside us at lunch.

“You mean our series of chairs from mice?” said Justin. “Harry outdid us all by producing a bar with a pair of barstools. It wouldn’t have been out of place in 1930s New York—or for that matter in _Casablanca_. I was waiting for a piano to start playing.”

They laughed, then said, “that wasn’t quite what I was talking about. I was more thinking of a leprechaun driving Cinders to the ball and the opportunity to meet her Prince Charming.”

“Oh that, pfff,” and he blew it away with a wave of his hand. “We were just having fun. What does she have you Sixth Years working on?”

“The current module is focused on self-transfiguration. Most of us can do the basics of it but maintaining the change for the whole class period is difficult. Wing Chen’s Principle keeps kicking in and the change just fades out.”

“Presumably, most of you don’t actually want to do it—or are scared that it will stick—and so your intent is not strong enough to keep it going,” offered Neville.

“Ah, it’s always the quiet ones who have the best insights. Thank you, Longbottom, we’ll have to think through that. Hey, Jocasta?”

“Hmm?” It was Falkirk, the other Chaser on our team.

“Mr. Longbottom here’s got an excellent suggestion about our Transfiguration problems.”

She took her attention away from her bowl of chicken soup and looked at Neville, who blinked back owlishly at her.

“Well, let’s hear it,” she demanded.

Neville explained his thoughts about intent again.

“You wonderful man,” she exclaimed. “I could kiss you for that, but it’s probably a good thing I can’t reach you as I’d embarrass myself too much.”

Neville blushed the colour of the tomatoes in his ham salad, then said, “that’s okay.”

By then she had turned to the others near her and started explaining. When she’d finished, Neville was getting thumbs up signals and stately nods of thanks from all the students in that section of the table. He was very relieved when Malfoy dragged us away to go to Herbology.

Herbology started with a lecture on contaminants and pests in magical plants. We were then sent into Glasshouse Three where Professor Sprout had set up eighteen stations around the space and we were to work our way around as many of them as possible in pairs to identify the problems with the plants at the stations. I was lucky that it was my turn to be paired with Neville and there were several problems that he instantly diagnosed, and we were able to move on quickly.

However, he did take the time to show me what he’d spotted and by the time we’d reached the fifth place I found myself seeing some of the problems for myself. There was an aconite plant where all of one side was droopy and sick-looking, while the other side was healthy.

“Root damage?” I asked.

“Yup. Any thoughts as to what’s done it?”

“Fungal infestation?”

“Probably a _Fusarium_.”

We moved onto another with a single branch that was drooping with browning leaves.

“What do you reckon, Harry?”

I used one of the magical functions of my new glasses and focused in on the point where the branch met the main stem.

“There’s a beetle-like thing that’s coming out of a hole in the branch.”

“Yeah, stem-borer. The larvae of some beetles and moths eat plant stems. There’ll be a leaf-borer in the collection here somewhere too.”

We skipped over a few of the plants the first time round because others in the class had got caught up trying to work out what was wrong with them.

“But, Mandy, it looks perfectly alright.”

“You mean, apart from the fact that it’s glowing orange?”

“Well, yeah. Apart from that.”

“And that it’s got purple spots on the underside of the leaves?”

“Isn’t that normal? I mean, lots of plants have purple spots.”

I heard no more of that conversation, for Neville set his mouth firmly and hurried me on to a fern that had a short trunk.

“This is a magical plant within the _Cibotium_ genus. There are three species and I haven’t worked out yet how to tell between them, because they all have this woolly or hairy rhizome. The first place to look for a problem in any fern is the crown—where the new fronds develop.”

We peered over the top and Neville nodded in satisfaction before pointing at a darker area. “It’s been over-watered and has started rotting. The problem this time is human intervention.”

“But how does that work? I mean don’t ferns live in rainforests?”

“Yes, but these chaps aren’t the emergent trees. Rather, they live under the canopy of larger trees and gain their water from the dripping branches of the trees above and from mists that rise in stream gullies. Some ferns can take direct watering, but these can’t.”

I jotted down what he was saying, and we carried on. When we got back to Professor Sprout, we had notes on fourteen of the plants.

“There’s another ten minutes, if you want to try for the other four,” she said. So, we returned to the glowing plant with purple spots.

“Don’t even think of touching that, Harry. When the glow of a _Lucida aurantifolia_ goes that orangey colour, it’s become the host of a mite that gives off a toxic liquid that is extremely irritating to human skin. The purple spots are an indication of how bad the infestation is on this plant.”

“What’s the plant used for normally?”

“The juice from the fruit can be squeezed into Lachlan’s Solution to stabilise it, which means it retains efficacy for a couple of days, instead of needing to be compounded and used immediately.”

From a little reading ahead, I knew that Lachlan’s Solution was used to manage gastro-intestinal bleeding. We’d be learning how to make it shortly before the Christmas break.”

We found a leaf-curler, another mite infestation and a third fungal infection on the other plants, before Professor Sprout called the class back together.

“I’ll give you the results of this class when we meet again on Monday. Did anyone touch the _Lucida aurantifolia_?” She paused for a response. “I mean the plant that’s glowing orange.”

A couple of the Gryffindors put their hands up.

“With gloves on? Or, with bare hands?”

Both had pulled gloves on, at least.

“Right, come over here.” And she spelled their gloves off and into a vat of disinfectant. “You can get these back from me on Monday. They need to be decontaminated, otherwise you’ll be spending at least two weeks in the Infirmary with the most painful dermatitis you can imagine.”

And we were dismissed.

~~

History was even less exciting than usual as Binns covered a civil war amongst the Westphalian giants for the first forty-five minutes, then he dived into more Goblin ancestry tables—this time in thirteenth century Bulgaria.

As we walked across to Runes I asked, “why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do we need to know about Bulgarian goblins or Westphalian giants?”

“Dunno. The purpose of learning History to understand where we’ve come from and to learn from previous mistakes,” said Justin. “But …” He shrugged as he broke off.

“This is why we’ve got to replace him,” said Malfoy.

The Runes tutorial was spent working on learning the rest of the Devanagari runes, then constructing words to see how the characters combine. Some characters change form depending on the context and spotting the change isn’t always easy.

“Is there such a thing as a syllabary for the Indic scripts?” I pondered aloud.

“I don’t know how you do this, Mr. Potter, but that’s the next thing on my course outline.

“As we’ve already discussed, apart from a few characters like the [ॐ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%E0%A5%90), the Devanagari runes are always used in groups. Appendix four of your textbook _The Rune Alphabets of the World_ has an initial list of letter combinations that have a magical significance. Those listed there have innocuous effects so that they can be used by the general reader of the text without causing major harm.”

That was one of the books we’d decided to share rather than having a copy each, so Justin and Draco looked at Justin’s copy, while Neville and I looked at the other. There were five pages listing various syllable-level combinations. They were grouped by purpose and sequenced according to the Sanskrit alphabet.

An hour in the library followed by dinner and Quidditch practice rounded out the day and I fell into bed ready to clear my mind and fly into the night. I woke to turn over at some point and found I was tracing out Devanagari runes on my broom and hoped that I had stuck to benign combinations, before drifting off again.

**Friday 20 September**

“In!” ordered Snape, back to his old grouchy self already. “Before we commence this morning’s lecture, your grades for Wednesday’s potion. There were six Outstanding, five Exceeds and five Acceptable. The remainder were Poor and have been tipped away as unusable and not able to be rescued.”

The six O-grades went to the six of us who had had the fresh Fanged Geranium petals from Sprout.

“And,” he heaved a sigh, “your essays.” With his sourest face and usual snide comments, he passed out the pile of parchment scrolls.

I ignored his snarky comment and couldn’t tell you what it was he said to me. My focus was on the large E in red ink. A note was pinned to the top. “If I could read your chicken scratch properly, this could have been marked higher. SS.”

A knock came at the door. When it opened in response to Snape’s command nothing happened. There was a gasp from one of the Gryffindor girls and we turned to look. There was a bleeding body that looked familiar lying in the doorway.

“Louis,” whispered Neville.

“It’s a construct,” declared Justin. “The magic is wrong for it to be a real body.”

Snape was just staring at it with a white face—well, paler than usual.

I turned to Malfoy, “boggart?”

He shrugged. “Don’t know, we can try.” And he ran in front of Snape and called “riddikulus!”

It flickered briefly and became an image of a huge house burning. A woman was leaning out of an upper story window calling for help.

“Riddikulus!” and a huge hand came out of the sky and slapped down upon the building.

Neville dodged in and pushed Draco out of the way. Professor Umbridge appeared.

“Riddikulus!” A speech bubble with the words “hem, hem” in it appeared above her as she morphed into a toad.

That brought a sufficiently loud crow of laughter from the other students to begin to confuse the boggart.

Seamus jumped in and a banshee appeared only to be replaced by a cheerful leprechaun.

Cho came across and a death eater mask floated in the ar in front of her. Then it morphed into an Aunt Sally.

Sneyd came next. A vixen with the face of Edgecombe appeared before it changed into a teddy bear with purple fur.

While this was going on, I could hear Draco saying, “Lady Hogwarts, we need your help. There is nowhere for us to drive the boggart into.”

A niche opened on the wall to the left of the door and Draco called, “there. Drive it into that opening.”

The students became more directional as they did their dread work efficiently and the boggart gave up and fled into the niche, which promptly closed over.

We paused breathing hard and looked around at each other.

“Why didn’t you get in front of it, Harry?” asked Mandy Brocklehurst.

“Because the last thing we needed in that melee was a dementor.”

“Oh,” was the response in a quiet voice.

“And there is very little opportunity to think of something humorous when your soul is being sucked out,” came from Neville.

“Right, now that you have successfully demonstrated that you remember Professor Lupin’s instruction, we will return to the topic of this morning’s lecture. Using spoor in Potions.”

A few of us wrinkled our noses—the rest, I assume, didn’t know what spoor is. I just hoped I wouldn’t have to go out and collect it fresh.

As he proceeded through his lecture, I could sense that some of the others were getting confused. Eventually Lisa Turpin raised her hand.

“Ah sir? You are talking about snakes, aren’t you?”

“Snakes? Absolutely not. Whatever gave you that idea?”

I could feel Malfoy shaking beside me and felt a wave of amusement from Justin and Neville. Seamus snorted on the other side of the room but tried to cover it up.

“Well, a runespoor is a snake, isn’t it? So, the other spoors you’re talking about will be other species of snake.”

“Mmpppff,” was the sound of Malfoy desperately not laughing.

Snape’s face spasmed for a moment with a rictus before it settled into the sneer that had so often been directed at me. Then he let loose with one of his classic dunderhead rants and ended with pulling out a dictionary, tapped it with his wand and said “spoor.”

“Spoor: noun, uncountable. An animal’s track or trail marked by the scent and/or droppings. Verb, transitive. To track an animal by following its spoor.”

The ripple of dismay that went across the room when they realised that he was talking about using faeces in potions was almost as amusing as the misunderstanding.

“If I may be allowed to continue with my subject without any further foolish interruptions.”

And we settled down again to listen and take notes.

At the end of the class, Snape paused then said, “before I dismiss you, I wish to acknowledge your efficient help with the boggart. It would be invidious to award points to only some of you, yet I cannot award points to every member of the class—the rules don’t allow me to. Rest assured the incident will be investigated and it will go ill with the individual who perpetrated the prank. Ten points to Gryffindor. Ten points to Ravenclaw. I remind you that you have essays due to me by the end of the weekend. As usual, I will accept anything in my receptacle up until eight am on Monday. Anything arriving later will be marked as ‘did not submit’. Class dismissed.”

~~

It was our first Defence class since the parents had turned up en masse and taken her blood quills away. However, I doubted that the incident would have made her any more benign towards us.

“Good morning, Children.”

“Good morning, Professor Umbridge,” came in our dutiful kindergarten voices.

“How sweet and lovely it is to see your bright shining faces this morning. Our last lesson was most unfortunately curtailed and the little challenge I had intended that we should have was unable to be performed. However, if you have kept up with the readings that I assigned, then we should be able to just fit it in in this period. I am sure that you will find this to be a valuable learning experience.”

Well, way to tempt us into thinking we were going to do something interesting. But no, just a quiz. Not even enlivened by asking questions that would be useful.

I rolled my eyes at the parchment in front of me, inked my quill and started with all the enthusiasm of a cat about to have a bath. The students I could see around me seemed to be of the same mind. Not even Hermione was writing down enthusiastic answers or squeezing extra words into the space provided for our answers.

Most of the questions were insultingly easy. “What is the title of Chapter Two of Mr. Slinkhard’s book?” (The book didn’t have chapter titles, so I wrote ‘Chapter Two’.) But a few of them were real doozies. “What is the purpose of a Blood Quill?” “What should you do when facing a flock of werewolves ten minutes before the moon sets?” and “What is the source of truth in the wizarding world?”

Was she looking for the real answers? Our opinions?

I went with the patsy answers that I thought she would want. Sign important documents in a binding manner; hide; the Ministry.

I looked up when I had finished the quiz only to meet her eye.

“Mr. Potter, why are you wearing those glasses?”

“Because they’re mine, Professor.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, your glasses look nothing like those.”

“My ocular prescription needing updating and I took the opportunity to update the frames.”

“Without my permission, as I can recollect no request to allow this to occur. You will report to my office immediately following dinner.”

I didn’t commit myself, but merely bowed my head to look again at my paper.

Thankfully it was a single period, and we were able to escape to Charms a little later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting later than intended because I realised that I've been working on a much later chapter all week and had to hurriedly sort this one out.


	41. Vanishing Charms and Their Uses

“Good morning,” said Flitwick once we’d assembled. “The next class of charms that we’re going to explore is the Vanishing Charms. I’m sure that Professor Snape has already introduced you to one of them.”

There was wry laughter from most of us, for we’d all heard evanesco proclaimed over our cauldrons at some point or other. And many of us had learned to do it ourselves.

“Remember the adage that energy is neither created or destroyed and so when something is vanished it must go somewhere. As a result, we need to be mindful of which vanishing charm we use.”

I had never thought of where my evanescoed potions had gone and turned up the section in the textbook with interest.

There were about twenty different charms listed, and they all had different ways of thinking about them. There was the risk of mixing up word and intent, sometimes with comedic effect, but at other times dangerous.

“For your OWLs, you should be able to demonstrate knowledge of at least five different methods of vanishing objects, including what happens to the objects.

“Now, there are some vanishing techniques that are not listed in your textbooks, but you are probably all familiar with them. Would anyone like to hazard a guess at one of them?”

Terry Boot offered “abluo, ’cause it makes dirt disappear.”

“Well, I wasn’t really thinking of the Cleaning Charms, but that’s okay.”

“Portkeys,” was suggested by Margaret Smith, one of the Hufflepuffs—she had a fiery temper when anyone insulted her or someone she cared about. Stanton had found that out last year when he tried calling her Maggie when he was trying to persuade her to go to Hogsmeade with him.

There were sounds of scoffing, so she explained, “to anyone witnessing a portkey departure, it’s like the person has disappeared.”

“Very good, Ms. Smith. Portkeys are indeed one of the techniques I was thinking of.”

A forest of hands went up and Michael Corner was called on.

“Well, in that case apparation would also be a vanishing charm.”

“Exactly, particularly as to observers the person has disapparated. Etymologically, the word is clearly linked to disappear. You will be aware that you won’t be learning to apparate in this class, as you need to be seventeen before you can do so legally. Portkeys are advanced magic and are normally not taught until students are apprenticed to a Charms Master. Even then, Charms Masters tend to specialise and not all have Portkey skills.

“Today, we’ll be focusing on vanishing liquids. The charms for these are the most straightforward. _Evanesco_ sends a liquid to the nearest waste receptacle. _Evaporo_ does exactly what it sounds like—turns the liquid into a gaseous form by evaporation. _Deliquesco_ causes a liquid to disperse into the atmosphere, broken down into its component molecules. And the fourth is _effluo_, whereby the liquid is drained away to earth.”

Then he led us in a discussion on what types of liquids are best suited to each of the four charms. We were then set up with various containers of water and started practicing them.

There were the occasional shrieks as people vanished the containers instead of the water, but on the whole, we were doing pretty well with distinguishing them. That is until there a particularly loud shriek from Hermione. We looked across and she was standing there completely soaked with more water falling on her like a localised rainstorm.

“What happened?” I asked Ernie who was closest to us.

“Not entirely sure, but I think someone said evapesco or evanoro. And that caused a small cloud to form. Unfortunately, right over Granger.”

“But what’s feeding it?” asked Justin. “Surely it would run out of water quickly. There’s not that much in the containers.”

I caught sight of a surreptitious wand movement and spotted Susan and Adeyemi quietly working together to add water to the cloud. I shook my head at them, and they shrugged and stopped. It was a good prank, but it was close to going too far.

Fortunately, Hermione took it in good part and combinations of effluo and drying charms soon had her back to normal—except for her hair, which was frizzier and more fly away than ever.

Lunch followed by Divination and Arithmancy occupied the time until we met Stagnant in the gym.

“Why are we still going to Divination, Neville? It’s not as if either of us have the divine spark, as the niece of Cassandra would say.”

“We could drop it, you know. We’re still doing Runes and Spell Creation, which meets the two electives requirement.”

“And getting those two double periods freed up for study would be good. Particularly as I lose time for Quidditch as well. Let’s talk to Flitwick about it this evening.”

“Can’t—you’ve got to be in _her_ office this evening.”

“Bother it. I was trying to pretend that wasn’t going to happen and I’d nearly got rid of it from my memory.” I sighed. “Alright, we’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

“Will your guardian be alright with it?”

“With dropping Divination? Absolutely, there’d no problem. And your grandmother?”

“Oh, Gran won’t mind. Not in the slightest. She doesn’t hold with mucking about in the future. ‘It’s the present that needs to be lived in’ is a common cry.”

We reached the gym to find that Draco and Justin were already there and just lacing up their shoes. We quickly stripped down and grabbed workout towels from the pile beside the door before heading through it.

“Warm up today is mountain climbers for two minutes, followed by reverse bear crawls.”

We got through those, guzzled a half-litre bottle of water each, then got into the workout proper, starting with three sets of ten goblet squats alternated with lat pulldowns. Malfoy was allowed to increase his weights by half a kilo and me by one.

Thirty minutes later all four of us were doing dumbbell curls side by side with Stagnant barking “keep your elbows tucked in and don’t let them move forward.” We were each using a different weight ranging between 7.5 kg (Draco) and 15 kg (Justin), but we were all working as hard as each other.

“Slower, Potter. Feel the burn. Ten … eleven … twelve. And stop.”

“But I could have gone on to do a couple more,” said Neville.

“Next time, young ’un. I want you to keep a couple of reps in the tank on most of your exercises. We’re not aiming to cause your muscles to fail, but to get enough stimulus to want to grow.”

We re-racked the weights, rolled out our legs and went to shower.

When we came into the changing room Mitch and Frankie were wrestling with each other in the nude. Both were sporting erections and were grabbing at them.

“Oh, get a room you two,” called out their friend. “There are young impressionable minds present.”

The two lovers reached out a hand and flipped him the bird simultaneously, while Justin laughed.

They heard that and broke apart looking a bit embarrassed.

“Whoops forgot that you guys would be around,” said Mitch. “Sorry about that.”

“No worries,” said Justin. “Good wank material when I put the scene into a pensieve.”

“Bloody hell,” said Frankie. “You wouldn’t.”

“He would,” said Malfoy. “You especially with the chest hairs. It’s only his jock strap that’s keeping him from showing wood.”

Frankie and Justin both blushed and then the older guys got dressed and went into the gym, while we stripped for our showers. Draco was right, Justin was at full mast and when he pulled his jock strap off, there was a slapping sound as his dick sprang up and stuck his abdomen.

Neville and I were at half-mast and Malfoy’s was lengthening. None of us were averse to Justin’s suggestion that we wank before our showers. However, we carefully stood about two metres apart from each other, so that we could see but had no chance of touching.

I was first to finish a white arch that landed at Justin’s feet across the circle from me. He was next and returned the favour by getting most of the way to me. Draco and Neville finished at the same time. Draco’s upper chest and neck had flushed an attractive shade of rose pink and I finally learned who was the heavy breather in the old Gryffindor room.

We stepped into the showers and a couple of minutes later were drying off. The splooge had been washed away and there was no sign that anything out of the ordinary had occurred.

As we walked back to Ravenclaw I had an idea on what do about Umbridge that evening. The guys were on for it, so once dinner was over, we made our way back to the Defence corridor and Umbridge’s office. On being invited to enter in a syrupy voice after I had knocked, we entered in a group.

“What are you doing here?” she asked in tones that did not indicate welcome.

“You asked to see us after dinner, Professor,” I replied mildly.

“You, yes, but these other three boys were not expected.”

“Oh, weren’t they? I’m so sorry, guys, I must have misunderstood. I really did think that this was the invitation to tea and cake that we’ve not been able to make before now.”

And I turned on her my most dazzling smile.

She harrumphed for a moment, as if she didn’t know what to say or do, then called out, “Limon.”

A house elf dressed in a hot pink pillow-case appeared with a popping sound and bowed low. “Yes, mistress.”

“Tea and cake.”

It bowed again before disapparating. A few moments later a large tray appeared on Umbridge’s desk.

She tapped the teapot with her wand and a curlicue of steam rose from its spout. I caught Justin’s eyes widen for a moment, then he shook his head slightly. I got the message, ‘don’t drink whatever comes out of that teapot.’

Meanwhile Neville had quietly conjured a pot with mother-in-law’s tongue in it and placed it under a targeted concealment charm. So, he too had picked up a problem.

Draco became his most urbane and offered to assist with serving. She allowed him to hand round the slices of cake—a somewhat dry Madeira cake that hadn’t been mixed properly, so still had flour lumps in it—but poured the tea herself.

She had obviously been watching us closely because she put in the right amount of sugar for each of us. She then pulled out of her desk drawer a small bottle that was reminiscent of Aunt Marge’s Splenda. She shook out two small white tablets and dropped them into her cup.

“Be grateful, dears, that you can still have sugar. When you get to my ripe stage of life, you’ll find that sugar does astonishing things to your waistline.”

Well, thank you for the piece of personal trivia, I thought. It’s not the sugar that did that, it’s the rest of your lifestyle in combination. However, none of that leaked into my surface thoughts or through my sympathetic smile.

She prattled on, seemingly without concern, but with a sharp eye on the level of tea in my cup.

“So, tell me, Harry—I may call you Harry in this informal setting, mayn’t I?” She said this last with a rakish smile, while I shuddered internally.

Giving me no chance to reply to this sally, she continued, “tell me about how you spend your summers.”

I winced, then gave

I winced, then gave her a dull version in a typical mid-teen near monotone.

“And your new glasses? When did you have your eyes tested?”

I thought rapidly, then said, “when I was in Diagon Alley getting my school supplies.” I desperately hoped she hadn’t said anything to McGongall or Snape. “They only arrived on Wednesday, which is why I was wearing the old ones before then.”

She simpered at that and I knew that we both knew that I had just bare-faced lied to her. But she moved the conversation on to the subject dearest to her, her own importance to the Minister, which gave me a chance to glance around her office. I came close to puking—it was nauseatingly pink and there were plates on the walls with gambolling kittens on them. As I looked, one turned, flicked up its tail and did its business before bouncing off the direction of another plate, where it sat on its rump, pointed a leg out at a ridiculous angle and proceeded to groom itself.

The plant had received the remainder of our tea and the cake had been quietly vanished, leaving only a few crumbs on our plates, before she wound down sufficiently to allow a comment from us.

Draco took over and made small talk for a couple of minutes before offering her a juicy bit of gossip.

“I don’t know if it’s true or not, and you mustn’t let anyone know who told you, but …”

Her eyes widened at this gambit and her tongue flicked out to lick her lips in anticipation.

“… Augustus Rookwood is not the father of either of his daughters.”

Pause of exclamations of delighted horror, while Neville got rid of the plant without her noticing.

“And yet he is aiming to take over the Clerkship of the Wizengamot.”

Her face became terribly earnest and concerned.

“Oh, dear me, how dreadful. It’s so important that we have people of the utmost moral rectitude serving the Wizengamot.”

After a further five or so minutes of other such platitudes and maxims, we were able to get away on the plea of needing to finish off some study before retiring to bed.

We got back to our room before anyone said anything of importance.

“Well, that’s dealt with two problems.”

“What do you mean, Draco?” asked Justin.

“Well, Rookwood’s actually a tool of Riddle, so we’ve kept him from ruling the Wizengamot by proxy.”

The Clerk pretty much is the final decider of which cases come before the Wizengamot,” added Neville. “And when. So, they have a lot of power.”

“Currently it’s Weasley’s older brother, but he’s susceptible to suggestion from the Minister and Dumbledore, so he’s as biased as Rookwood would be—just from the other side.”

“And the other problem?”

“Umbridge. She doesn’t know that Rookwood adopted those girls—most people don’t—and when she starts asking questions about Rookwood’s morals, she’ll start an enmity with all of his faction at the Ministry.”

“There’s also the matter of her attempted potioning of four teenagers,” pointed out Justin.

“What was in the tea?” I asked.

“Draco?”

He pulled a testing kit out of his desk drawer and set it up, then pulled a vial of brown fluid from an inner pocket of his robes.

A couple of minutes later he said, “as I suspected, Veritaserum. Did any of you get any on board?”

We shook our heads. “That vanishing charm practice this morning, was damn useful,” I said.

“Good, because the sugar lumps would have potentiated its effects. By the way, her antidote didn’t work very well. Or, rather, it worked too well. She doesn’t understand potions. The fake sugar-substitute she used made her become garrulous.”

“Is that what it was?” exclaimed Neville. “And it had the edge of truth in it as well.”

“No edge there. She truly believes that she is indispensable to the Minister.”

“She’s probably shagging him,” said Justin.

“Eww, bad image,” I exclaimed. “I need to wash my brain.”

General laughter and we did our teeth and headed to bed.


	42. Dropping Divination

**Saturday 21 September**

Stagnant was prompt to arrive in the morning and found us ready for him.

“All right, rat-faces, let’s see what’s happened over the week.”

The now familiar spell washed over us while the quill wrote in the background.

“Hmm. A hundred grammes and one fifty. You two haven’t been eating enough this week. Do you find it difficult to eat?”

On receiving my acknowledgement, he called for Dobby.

“What can Dobby do for Great and Wonderful Battle Master?” And he snapped off a salute that would not have shamed a member of Her Majesty’s House Guards.”

“Appetite enhancer for these two every morning and protein snacks three times a day—mid-morning, mid-afternoon and supper.”

“Yes, Battle Master Sir.”

“Now, let’s see. You,” pointing at Justin, “have gone up in your chest and arm size and have increased weight by two fifty grammes. Maintain your current diet, it seems to be about right. All your exercise weights are going up this week.

“And you have maintained your weight while taking another centimetre off your waist, this is also good.”

He made some notes on the scrolls by hand, rolled them up with a snap before departing with a wave in the general direction of the wall to the left of our door.

A chart that recorded our weights and some of our measurements had appeared on the wall. There were three sets of measurements and a blank row dated 28/9 waiting for next week’s set.

Dobby rubbed his hands happily. “We is going to make yous all hunky chunky drool magnets.”

Malfoy looked at him in shock. “Dobby! Where did you learn those words?”

He looked worried. “Is they bad words, Master Draco? Dobby is not wanting to say bad words.”

“No, they’re not bad words. But you never learnt those while at the Manor.”

“Dobby is helping with keeping gym rooms clean and he hears words said. Some words Dobby knows are bad from the way they is said, but other words sound good.”

“I think I’m going to regret this; but give an example.”

“Well, Dobby hears boy yell out ‘fudge’ when he drop weight on his foot. That is a bad word. Later, that boy lying with girl and say ‘fuck’ in a such a lovely way that I know it is a good word.”

Justin nearly burst with trying not to laugh and rushed into the bathroom, while Neville dived behind his bed curtains barely holding in his sniggers.

Draco and I looked at each other wondering how on earth to explain. We somehow managed to stumble through an explanation between us before sending him off.

The four of us got dressed, then headed down for breakfast with occasional giggles when we caught each other’s eye. I hadn’t realised how much there was to looking after a house elf. And this was only one, and a shared one at that. How on earth was I going to manage when all the Potter family house elves and the other contracted people were reporting to me?

~~

I presented myself to Snape’s office a couple of minutes prior to nine.

“Sir, before we get started….”

“Well, what is it?”

“Um, I know this is a personal question, but it’s important—especially in the light of the boggart yesterday.”

He looked impatiently at me, so I suddenly blurted out, “how close did you get to Louis Tenggara?”

“Potter, while I am partly your guardian at your and your parent’s request, that does not permit you liberties that I would not grant my closest friend.”

I realised that he thought I was asking about whether they’d had sex, and blushed.

“Oh, no, no, no. I don’t want to know those details. No kid wants to imagine their parents having sex. My question is about the emotional thing. Is he someone who you want a relationship with, or was it more of a one-week stand … fling …” I groaned. “That didn’t come out right, did it?”

“No, Potter, it did not. However, I must admit to curiosity as to where this line of questioning is leading.”

“I can’t be definite, but I think Louis will be important in the coming wars.”

Snapes eyes flared for a moment.

“That worries you sir, which tells me the answer to my badly worded, impertinent question.”

He looked thoughtfully at me for a moment, then incanted, “legilimens.”

I was sort of anticipating it, so I had already raised my flying image. I immediately went into a series of barrel rolls in the hope of making him dizzy, then pulled up sharply, did a tailspin and went up and over before dropping into a Wronski feint.

“Very good, Mr. Potter,” I heard in my head, “but I’m still here. Push me out instead.”

Then he started riffling through my memories of the school week, before heading deeper. He found the traumas of the summer and was about to see the assaults. I cried out and suddenly he wasn’t in my mind anymore.

I heard heavy laboured breathing and I looked up to see that he was cradling his ribs with a bright red arm.

“Sir?”

“You managed to push me out with some vehemence. It had the physical effect of setting my arm on fire and hurling me into the table.”

“What can I do to assist, sir?”

“Open that cupboard over there and bring me a jar of your burn-salve and a number four pain reliever from the same shelf.”

I followed his instructions and helped him swallow the pain reliever.

“Why only a number four, sir?”

“Because any higher and I won’t be thinking straight enough to sort the other problems. It will also remind me not to underestimate you.”

Between us we got the burn salve onto his arm and, while we waited for it to cure and go blue, we sat at his desk and discussed my reaction.

“Your initial strategy of doing some fancy flying was good, but it will only work with less experienced Legilimens, or someone who is only surface-skimming.”

“Like the Headmaster is apt to do?”

He sighed. “Yes, but do not become lax around him. While he mostly surface-skims to see what stray thoughts are floating around, he is very capable of diving in deeply in less than a micro-second’s thought. Now, why didn’t it work with me?”

I thought carefully. “Because it was purely defensive?”

“Exactly. True occlumency is offensive as well.”

“So,” I said slowly. “Kind of like fighting with a sword and shield. An expert can block with either or both but can also use the shield as a weapon. A shield shoved in an opponents face can knock them out of the battle for a while.”

“Yes. Remember also that the edges of shields were sometimes filed to sharp edges as well, so they can also be used to slice.”

“Hmm, I suppose another metaphor would be boxing. I’ve watched my cousin sparring a few times and he keeps his left hand close in most of the time in a defensive posture and does most of the work with his right, but every now then the left shoots out and strikes the bag with enough force to shake it.”

He looked keenly at me but elected not to say anything. He’d seen the parchment and would know from that that sometimes I was the punching bag. I certainly had experience of Dudley’s left hook.

I was saved from further discussion when the salve on his arm turned blue. He broke it away and underneath his skin looked healthy and a much more normal colour.

“Your burn salve is truly miraculous. By the way, I have sent your paper off to a journal and have lodged the patent with the appropriate department of the IWC.”

“Thank you, sir.” Then feeling embarrassed by this praise, I turned the subject back to Occlumency. “What do you want me to work on this week?”

“Nothing new, just keep practicing the maintenance of your flying images.”

Then he took me through to his private quarters and passed me a cup of green tea. The music this time was a lush, full string sound that proceeded unhurriedly. On my query, I was told that it was Barber’s _Adagio_.

“Sir, I’m thinking of dropping Divination. I know Professor McGonagall won’t object, but I’d like your opinion too.”

“Do you have any talent in this area?”

“Only in creative writing,” I said, with a grin.

“Well, if after two years of trying there is no sign, then I have no objection. Have you an alternative course of study in mind?”

“I’ve already got two elective because of picking up Ancient Runes this year as well as Spell Creation, and Quidditch is still happening, so I was hoping to be allowed to use those two periods a week as free time for studying.”

“Very well, but I expect you to present a study plan to me and report each week what you have achieved against it.” He held up a hand to forestall me from saying anything. “This is no different that I would insist a member of my House do. And, when I did something similar—I dropped Care of Magical Creatures in my Fourth Year—your mother made me do the same. In fact, she nagged at me for two weeks solid until I had done it. Don’t make me do the same, Mr. Potter.”

I laughed. “Alright, I’ll do it. I’ll get the guys to help me plan it, to make sure that I’ve not left anything important out. Neville wants to drop Divination too, so he’ll need to occupy his time as well, hopefully with not too much time on plants.”

He talked a bit more about Mum and her stubborn determination when she got an idea in her head.

“Sir, before I go, there’s one other matter.” And I told him about tea and cake with Umbridge the previous evening.

His lips disappeared as he compressed them tightly.

“That woman is getting to be impossible. The only veritaserum allowed in the school is that made by the resident Potions Master, _i.e._ by me. My supplies are small as there is little call for it in the school. I also have to be present when it is administered in case of an adverse reaction, as some of the ingredients are known to cause problems for some people. The rules around its use on minors are similar to those of Legilimency.”

He got up and went over to what looked like a liquor cabinet, selected a key from a chain in his pocket and unlocked it. Then he flicked his wand in a precise pattern, before finally pulling the doors open.

“As I thought. My supply is complete and not tampered with.”

“Malfoy reckons she doesn’t understand potions—as evidenced by her combining her fake sugar substitute into her cup—so, …”

“Oh, she certainly didn’t brew it herself. She was only a few years ahead of me at school and her ability at blowing up cauldrons was possibly greater than Longbottom’s skill at such. No, she’s been provided with it via her contacts.”

“Do house elves ever brew potions?”

“They’re magically capable of it, but they don’t usually have the necessary patience to avoid taking shortcuts.”

“So not Limon, then.”

“Who?”

“Her house elf. Unable to tell the gender but wears a hot pink pillowcase.”

“Your capacity for noticing and remembering the people from the other magical races seems to know no bounds.”

“Yeah well, if you get treated like a house elf, you tend to be aware of them,” I muttered.

“Hmm. Any other little revelations you wish to share today?”

I grinned at him, for I knew that he was joshing me despite his tone of voice being filled with weary sarcasm. “Nah, I think that’s all for the time being. I’ll go and find Professor Flitwick and talk to him about dropping Divination.”

“You might want to let Minerva know first. It would be politic at least.”

I nodded and we went back through to his office–after he had relocked his potions stash. I departed with the words, “Weasley, get in here,” resounding in my ears.

I watched Ron shamble into the office, then went to find Professor McGonagall.

A few minutes later I had a ginger newt in my hand and another cup of tea on the corner of the desk in front of me.

I laid out my thinking and added what Snape had said about a study plan.

“Well, … no I won’t say again what I think of the Art of Divination (I heard her air-quotes)—for it surely cannot be called a Science—for you are already well aware of my thoughts on the subject. But why are you coming to me and Severus? This is a matter for your Head of House.”

“Well, you are the academic half of my guardian, and I would rather have your approval than disapproval. Also, I do value your thoughts and opinions. If we’re not used to each other in these smaller things, then when I need guidance in more serious matters than studying Divination, we’ll struggle to communicate.”

“Well, well. You have my approval, my dear boy.”

With that I left and went in search in my roommates. I found them in a different part of the library than usual, along with Vince and Greg. Greengrass, Bulstrode, Tracy Davies, Cotterill and Perks were at the next table. I raise my eyebrows at seeing such a combination of the four houses sitting together but shrugged. While it wasn’t what she wanted, it was still within the letter of the decree on house mixing.

“Ah, just the man we want to talk to,” said Cotterill.

“Oh?”

“Yes, we need your experience.”

I had a sinking feeling that this was going to be something I didn’t want to get involved in.

“How does one keep Granger under control?”

A bubble of laughter welled up inside me, but I controlled it so as not to bring Madam Pince down upon us.

“You can’t. What’s happened this time?”

“She’s drawn up study outlines and plans for every member of Hufflepuff from First to Fourth Year and has taken to supervising the junior student’s study time to make sure that they’re using the plans.”

“Sounds normal to me, so far.”

“Yes, well. Then she’s started on the Fifth Years—and not just those in her House.”

“Ah. Okay then. There’s only one thing to do, and that is to distract her with some research so that she doesn’t have time for anything else extra.”

Neville piped up, “I’ve got an idea.”

We all looked at him encouragingly.

“The name taboos. You know how Binns wouldn’t say the name of that East European Dark Lord from the Northumbrian War the other day in History? Well, I’m sure there’s a way of lifting the anathema. If we cast it in the light of researching how to deal with future taboos or name-linked magic, then she can feel she’s doing something worthwhile as well.”

“Excellent idea, Neville,” said Justin.

“Harry and I will talk to her about it when we next get a chance.”

Satisfied, everyone settled down to writing our various assignments, with the occasional murmured question to clarify something. This was so different to studying with Hermione that it felt strange at first not to be racing frenetically through piles of books in the effort to find the perfect quotation for a footnote.

I wondered briefly about where my friendship with Hermione was going, which then led me on to wondering about Ron. We’d spent three years being best mates, and despite his jealousy over the Triwizard Tournament last year, we’d somehow kept it up last year. But this year, so far, was making me wonder where our friendship truly was. Or was this jealousy all over again, but this time because I had friends other than him. Mind you, I also needed to get to the bottom of this Malfoy vs Weasley thing. However, not a topic for this Saturday and I settled back to my Potions essay.

About eleven thirty I got Neville’s attention and the two of us packed up to head down to see Flitwick. He was always in his office for the hour before lunch on Saturday and, after a short wait outside, we were admitted.

“Ah, Messrs. Longbottom and Potter, good morning. And what can I do for you?”

“We’d like to drop Divination, sir.”

And I went on to explain what I’d already told Snape and McGonagall.

“And what do you propose to do with the time freed up by dropping Divination?”

“I intend to spend most of it on Herbology, sir. Mostly the theoretical aspects.”

“Hmm, and Mr. Potter?”

“Professor Snape has already instructed me to submit a study plan to him for approval, sir. I presume that you would like to see it also.”

“Yes, that would be as well. Very well, I approve. Please give me your timetables.”

He waved his wand over them and tapped them before passing them back. We were then sent on our way. A couple of Third Year Ravenclaw students were outside waiting for their turn to see him. As we closed the door behind us, we could hear them start to complain about Defence class.”

~~

We were scheduled to use the Quidditch pitch in the afternoon and so we assembled in a cluster around Roger promptly at two. He explained his plan for the practice, which was to start with five minutes of drills for each position, then we’d be spending time on honing the Beater versus Chaser work, while the Seekers and Keepers worked together on interference drills. The reserves would be training as hard as the main team.

“We all need to be match fit by the time of our first game against the Gryffindor team in a fortnight’s time. Because you can guarantee that the Weasley twins and their sister will be.”

I pricked up my ears at that. I hadn’t heard that Ginny had got on the team.

“What position is she playing?”

“Seeker, while the twins are continuing as Beaters.”

“Remind me to have a conversation with you two later,” I said. “I’ve played some pick-up games against her, so I know something of her methods.”

Cho nodded her thanks and we started on the drills.


	43. A Karanga

**Sunday 22 September**

When I got up for our run on Sunday morning, I found that both Neville and Draco had got up as well. Draco had on a sleeveless vest that was tight across his chest and I could see the impressions that his nipples made against the fabric. I felt the stirring of something in my groin, so turned to look at the others instead. It was no better with Neville’s shorts indicating that he’d chosen to forgo underwear and Justin’s t-shirt was see through.

We made our way up to the Room on the Seventh Floor and, when I asked it for somewhere to run, a green painted wooden door appeared. We opened the door and slipped through into a garden with a path that invited us to run along it just to see where it led.

As we started a lark rose up and sang in the sky above our heads, while over our left we could hear the whir of a hand mower and the snick of clippers trimming a hedge. In the distance there was the murmur of a brook chuckling as it fell into a small dell.

The path led us across a couple of lawns and then into a lightly wooded area where the path was covered in soft leaves and the sound of our footfalls dropped away into near silence. After about five minutes we came out onto a greensward that sloped down from a large stone keep with a portcullised gateway in it.

A fair was in the early stages of being set up and men in leather jerkins were erecting stalls. A younger one came over to us with a tray on which were tankards of water. We thanked him and drank deeply. The water was cool and fresh tasting.

“Your path lies across the sward between those two oak trees,” he said pointing towards a place on the other side from where we had entered.

He took the tankards back and left us to start running again.

“This room never stops amazing me,” I said as we crossed over to the oaks.

“Yup,” replied Justin. “It’s like magic,” he added with a grin in his voice.

The others laughed and we entered a woodland. The path led us through various twists and turns and then brought us out onto an open down. There were sheep grazing in the distance and the mocking cries of a flock of gulls came from our right.

In this constructed version of Southern England, the sun shone down upon us and we peeled off our shirts and tucked them into the waistband of our shorts before continuing on across the down and through a gap in a hedge where we found ourselves back on lawns surrounded by herbaceous borders. A turn in the path led us to a small sign that said, “you have made a journey of 5.2 km in a time of 34 minutes.” And above it was another that proclaimed “Exit”.

We wiped our chests and backs with our shirts before putting them on again, then headed back to our room to shower and dress for the day.

Justin left us for a while after breakfast to go to the monthly Communion service in the Chapel, while we went to the library to get caught up on the essays that we hadn’t gotten to because of Quidditch. Neville was working on the follow-up paper for Sprout and got up several times to grab another volume of the Flora he was using. By the time Justin joined us, Neville’s place at the table was becoming reminiscent of Hermione’s usual working habits.

“Do you feel holier?” I asked.

Justin gave a short laugh. “Hardly. Not really the point, though. It’s a chance to join with others in a shared journey. It’s kind of like our shared journey of discovering why the Hat put us together this year, only this journey is one of discovering what it means to believe in a deity who is omniscient, omnipresent and omnipotent.”

“But,” said Draco, “how do you reconcile magic with the Judeo-Christian teachings against witchcraft?”

“Yeah, and that’s part of why we gather together. Bishop Donald is really helpful with this because he’s been through it, having been a student here and still ended up in the Anglican Church. But the problems aren’t just there for me. After all, I was not only born with magic, but I’m also gay. So, either I’m doubly evil, or God is a vicious sick wanker who made me like I am and then created rules and laws against me, or the traditions and teachings are wrong.”

“And you go with the latter,” I said.

“Yup. There’s been some recent stuff published that suggests that the gay thing was about temple prostitutes, which means that the prohibition was about using sex magic in a worship setting. The neighbouring peoples did that in the hope of keeping the land fertile, thereby ensuring a good harvest. Problem was they were doing it before idols and therefore not worshipping God.”

At that point we dropped the topic and turned our attention back to our various assignments.

~~

At about eleven Neville said to me, “come on, let’s find Hermione.”

I blinked at him for a moment, then realised what he meant. The two of us went across to her usual table and found her with about six open books in front of her. Her finger was on one as she looked at another with a quill in her hand poised and ready to write.

“Hi Hermione, what you working on?”

She glanced around quickly before saying “blood magic” very quietly. “But these are the only books in the entire library that deal with it, and they only talk about it in general terms. I’m not sure where to look next. I could write to Snuffles, but I think he’d ask too many questions. How is he, by the way?”

“Fine I assume. Not heard from him for a bit.”

“But you’ve got the mirror, haven’t you?”

Damn, forgot about the mirrors. Mine was stuffed in the bottom of my trunk. Probably been buzzing away periodically with Sirius trying to talk me down and let him back into my life. Ah well, let the bastard stew.

“Look Hermione, if you’re not getting very far, then it’s best to put it aside for a while,” said Neville. “You can always come back to it later. And anyway, we know something of what she was after doing.”

“What?”

“Sneyd’s little potions incident.”

“What do you mean?”

We explained what had happened.

Hermione was suitably horrified. “Leech testicles? But at our age that would have caused …” she broke off and blushed a deep shade of crimson. “And he was under a blood compulsion?”

“Yup, and menstrual at that.”

She shuddered. “What kind of mentality uses let alone invents such magic?”

“Don’t go there, ’Mione,” I said gently. “And put the research aside, eh? Don’t want you getting into trouble. And it will free up some time for your school studies.”

“Bet even Riddle doesn’t like that kind of magic,” added Neville.

“Who?”

“Old Snakeface,” I said airily.

“You mean You Know Who? But why ‘Riddle’? Is that Batman reference?”

“Hadn’t thought of that,” I replied, “but no. His birth name is Tom Marvolo Riddle. Remember, I told you that after the Chamber of Secrets thing. The reason everyone uses silly circumlocutions to refer to him is that he put a geas on his assumed Lordly name. Anyone who said it had an immediate visit from his henchmen. It was broken when the AK bounced back on him, but he could put it back on at any time.”

“It’s like that Dark Lord in the Northumbrian War,” added Neville. “The geas on his name has never been broken.”

“Oh,” she said. “I wonder if we could work out how to break that.”

“Well, I’m sure it must be possible. Otherwise there would be all sorts of people we could never talk about. Stands to reason, doesn’t it. Most people’s names are not unique and if an anathema stayed attached to the name, then every time someone talked about someone else with that name, they would be subject to the anathema as well.”

Hermione was getting her research face on. “If we worked that out, we might be able to apply it to He Who Shall Remain Nameless if he starts it up again.”

Neville shot me a quick look of triumph, but I knew we hadn’t got her fully persuaded yet and went to diffident.

“But ’Mione, that could be dangerous, you know? I mean, if he were to find out.”

“Pish.”

My goodness, she actually said ‘pish.’ I’d never heard anyone actually say it—read it in books, but not heard it said.

“Harry Potter, are you suggesting that I’m afraid of a little bit of danger?”

Ah, there was our Gryffindor in Hufflepuff disguise not showing any fear and following along like a baby hippogriff being offered a fresh rat as a snack.

“Come on, Hermione, you know me better than that. I’m not stupid enough to suggest anything of the sort—nor to believe it. Not where you’re involved.”

She snorted, then jumped to her feet. “Right then, I’ll just reshelve these books and get started on researching geasa and anathemata.”

Trust her to know the correct plurals, I thought, then said aloud. “It’s nearly time for lunch, you know.”

“That’s okay, I’ll just make a start on making a reading list for now.” And she disappeared into the stack leaving Neville and I behind.

~~

We were part way through dinner when there was a clamour from the Grand Foyer. It sounded like several owls mixed with the buoyant noise of excited house elves. The door was then flung open and a man about six-and-a-half foot tall stood there. He wore a long cloak over his right shoulder and held a staff in his left hand. His face was heavily tattooed in a stylistic way and his hair was pulled up into a knot at the top of the back of his head and a single feather was stuck in it, pointing up to the ceiling. He appeared to be bare-chested and his dark eyes flashed as he took in the assembled occupants of Hogwarts.

“Bloody hell,” whispered Malfoy, “it’s Te Awhiorangi himself. It can’t be anyone else.”

The man just stood there waiting. Then a First-Year student at the Hufflepuff table rose to her feet and began to call out in a language I’d never heard before. It was sort of sung like a chant. It was an eerie sound and sent a shiver down me.

After listening for a few minutes, the man responded in the same language. His voice was deep and had a rhythm to it that compelled listening, even though we didn’t understand what he was saying.

The student then called out “_haere haere haere mai_.”

He then strode into the Great Hall and made his way between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables. When he reached the place where we were sitting, he paused to sweep his gaze over us, then nodded before continuing down to the Staff Table.

Justin whispered, “look at Snape.” Snape was standing bolt upright with his left arm crossed in front of him so that his fist was against his shoulder.

Dumbledore looked bemusedly at the newcomer, then coughed. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your company, Mr. …” And he broke off meaningfully.

“As you already know very well, Albus Dumbledore, there is no Mr. honorific in the place from which I hail. You have merely chosen to forget it. Stand down, Severus.”

Then he swept around to take in the eyes of the watching silent students. I realised then that he didn’t have any shoes on.

“Students of Hogwarts, although we have not yet met in person, we know each other well because our hearts speak. As your headmaster seems not to have the presence of mind to recall his correspondence with me, I will perforce introduce myself. My name is Te Awhiorangi. In the Māori language that carries a meaning of ‘the Astronomer’ or ‘he who sees the heavens.’ I am here to join the staff of Hogwarts to teach Wizarding Studies. This subject will cover many aspects of the magical world that those who grew up in it take for granted, but those of you who grew up in the mundane world know or understand very little of.

“As to where it will fit into your timetables, that’s something that the High Inquisitor will have sorted out already and she will have your revised timetables ready for you in the morning.”

Umbridge’s eyes were bulging in horror as her face took on a hunted look.

“Oh and, thank you Fiona for performing the _karanga_. Your aunt has taught you well.”

“Thank you, _Ariki_. You do me much honour by recognising one from a _hapu__̄_ as low as mine.”

“Nonsense, in the magical world all _hapu__̄_ are as one. Now, I’ve disturbed your dinners enough, please return your attention to satisfying the demands of the body.”

With that he swung around the end of the table where Hagrid was and took his place between Snape and Flitwick where a chair had appeared, having first leaned his staff against the back of his chair.

As the hum of eating and talking rose again around the hall, I could see that Umbridge was in earnest conversation with Dumbledore and McGonagall and was looking most upset. McGonagall looked for all the world like she didn’t care, but was trying to pretend to take an interest for the sake of peace, while Dumbledore was at his most avuncular and was almost patting Umbridge on the head and saying “there, there.”

When the usual time came for Dumbledore to give out the notices, he came around the Staff Table on the opposite side to Te Awhiorangi and as he approached the lectern from that side, he hit the barrier again. He looked out imploringly, but there was no way I was moving at that moment. I just used my magic to push the lectern towards him.

“Ah yes, that’s as well,” he said. “Students of Hogwarts, I hope you have dined well and are looking forward to a new week of classes …”

He broke off at the sound of the bass voice of Te Awhiorangi.

“Albus, where is your sign language interpreter?”

“My, … what?”

“You have several deaf students present. With the way you mumble your words into your beard, how do you expect them to understand what you are saying? You are required by the laws of Great Britain to provide sign language interpretation for your deaf students.”

“We don’t have such a thing.”

“Very well, my BSL is a little rusty at present, but I will stand in for the moment. However, you need to hire an interpreter with some urgency. How many deaf students do you have?”

“Twelve that I know of,” stated Professor McGonagall in acid tones from the centre of the table.

In the meantime, he had been signing rapidly. “By way of explanation to the rest of you, I’ve just relayed the discussion to your deaf peers. Do carry on, Headmaster.”

“Thank you. I am given to understand that a new Educational Decree has been posted that amends the previous one about students being outside the buildings during dark.

“Next weekend is the first Hogsmeade weekend for the year. Those of you who are Third Year or above may write their names on the signup sheets on your Common Room noticeboards. I remind you that you need to have permission from your parents or guardian and that you need to not be in detention to go off the grounds.

“The following weekend will see the start of the Quidditch season when Ravenclaw will meet Gryffindor. I’m sure that both teams have been practicing as much as they can in preparation and will give us a wonderfully nail-biting start to the season.

“And now, on behalf of Hogwarts, I wish you all …”

“Wait a moment, Headmaster,” came from Te Awhiorangi. “Who _is_ the current Mage of Hogwarts? I know it’s not you as you disqualified yourself some years ago.”

“Really,” Dumbledore exclaimed. “What does it matter?”

“It matters because you presumed to speak on behalf of Hogwarts, which you are not entitled to do if you are not the current Mage. So I repeat, who _is_ the current Mage of Hogwarts?”

Malfoy was moving uncomfortably in his seat and I realised what his link with the Castle really was.

I heard steel in Dumbledore’s voice, “I do not think we have such a person. If there was, I would certainly know about them.”

“Why?” scoffed Te Awhiorangi. “You lost the link to Hogwarts when you allowed the blame to rest on an innocent student; you lost the link to Hogwarts when you didn’t punish the perpetrator of attempted murder; you lost the link to Hogwarts when you allowed the same man to go to Azkaban for a crime you knew he had not committed; you lost the link to Hogwarts when you failed to carry through on the agreed punishment of your ex-lover. So, why would you automatically know who the current Mage is? Professor Snape?”

“Yes, Professor?”

“Is the Mage among the staff?”

“I’m not aware of any member of staff with such a link.”

“Ah, so among the student body, then.”

“Yes.”

“I see in your eyes and hear in your tone that you would rather not divulge that person’s name right at this moment. Very well, we can discuss it later. Headmaster, you were about to dismiss the student body.”

A defeated look stole across Dumbledore’s face. “You may leave. Good night.”

An excited buzz rose as we all got to our feet and headed out of the Great Hall. I overheard Lavender and Pansy discuss in excited tones how “dishy” he was. Laplace was talking volubly in French to a couple of Hufflepuffs about _le bel homme_ and _le visage des tatouage_. Then he gave a shout of laughter. “_Pas de tout, ce n’est pour moi_.” Well that’s a relief, I thought. I’m not sure 14-year-old French boys should get Polynesian facial tattoos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An approximate pronunciation of Te Awhiorangi is Tay Aa-fee-o-raang-ee, where both the "aa" sounds are long, like the a in "father" in received pronunciation.
> 
> I've had his arrival written since near the beginning of writing this story. I just didn't expect him to take 43 chapters to get here.


	44. The New Timetables

**Monday 23 September**

Breakfast saw the entire school arrive promptly at seven thirty to see what the outcome of last night had been.

The night had not been kind to Professor Umbridge, whose makeup and hairdo had failed. Her robes were also rumpled and creased—almost as if she had slept in them.

“Show off,” muttered Justin.

“What?” I said.

“Well, does she really expect us to believe that she doesn’t know any makeup charms? As for a simple robe freshening charm … we were taught those in Second Year. If she doesn’t know one, then her house elf does. No, this is an attempt to throw a guilt trip and to prove how hard it was to adjust the timetables.”

“Cynical much?” said Terry Boot from beside us. Then he hastened to say, “not that I don’t agree with you.”

The rest of the staff were cheerfully eating breakfast and ignoring her little cloud of gloom amongst them.

After a while her “hem hem” slid across the Great Hall and we stopped our chatter and turned expectant faces towards her.

“Good morning, children.”

We knew what was expected and the whole school chorused back in a bored sing song tone. The rest of the staff were taken aback—possibly having never heard the whole student body so united before. I thought I could hear a couple of people saying “Professor Toadface” instead of “Professor Umbridge,” but there was a general sense of loathing for her across all of us.

“I have been working hard on making the needed little tweaks to your timetables and I have come up with a model that will work without disturbing your core classes too much.” She waved her wand vaguely. “Your Heads of Houses now have your personalised versions in front of them and will distribute them.”

The look on Snape’s face as he shuffled through the pile was worth the price of admission, particularly when he had to pull out quite a few and pass them to the other Heads, while they did the same. Then the four of them came down among us and began dishing them out.

The hubbub of noise went up as people began to compare theirs with their classmates, and there was some anger in some of the voices.

“Hmm,” murmured Justin. “Sounds like she might have messed up majorly.”

“Well, of course she has. She didn’t get help from the timetabling experts on the staff, or from Hogwarts herself,” said Malfoy. “And Mage I might be, but I’m not going to sort it out.”

Flitwick reached us.

“These are probably completely wrong, gentlemen, but go with it for the moment.” And he winked.

Wrong? They were a pile of stinking doggy do. Other than Arithmancy for Justin and Malfoy, all four of our timetables should have been identical. But no. Apparently, I had Charms for twenty minutes followed by Potions for ten, then Runes for the rest of the morning, while Neville was in Arithmancy and Care of Magical Creatures. Malfoy had a series of ten-minute lessons all over the school with no time to get between them, and Justin was in first year flying for the whole morning—while simultaneously being in Divination.

What was worse, was that the teachers marked on each lesson were mixed up, with Professor Sprout teaching flying. Hooch was to teach Potions and Snape was down for Care. Goodness knows what Hagrid was supposed to be teaching. It was so ridiculous that I just started laughing. My laugh seemed to infect the others and soon the whole Hall was laughing. Then someone at the Slytherin table started a slow clap. Most people joined in, and many of the staff were smiling broadly.

Umbridge flushed an ugly shade of rotten tomato when she realised that we were giving her the bird. She tried to use a sonorous charm, but it failed, and she tried to incant sonorissima but her tongue tripped and I could see her mouth form the “ss” sound twice.

When the students realised that she was effectively mute, the catcalls started along with stamping. At that point I could see a worried look pass across McGonagall’s face, and she turned and spoke to Flitwick, ignoring Dumbledore as if he wasn’t in between them.

“Guys,” I said urgently. “This is about to get out of hand and turn to a mob. Need to calm it down.”

They nodded and we worked quickly in pairs to join two strands of our magic and throw the knots across the table to each other, then we raised a spinning disc that broadened as it went up. As people noticed it, they fell silent watching it. When it had risen to about four metres it was the full width of the Hall it started playing slow music that gathered people in. When the sound of a solo soprano rang through the musical texture, it was like everyone had forgotten where they were—or even who they were. I doubt most of the listeners had ever heard music like it before.

In the meantime, the four Heads of Houses had stood and started their own working from in front of the lectern. They stood in a line with their wands raised, then brought them down simultaneously with a sharp slashing movement.

A breeze rose and formed into a small whirlwind that spun briefly in front of them before splitting into four, each of which rushed up the length of one of the tables. They met at the far end, then came down a different table and returned to the Professors, where they merged back into one before dissipating.

They chanted together, “absulo, absolvo, resolvo.” Then Snape nodded towards us and we let the music fade out and the disc spun faster until it vanished, and we released the knots in our strands of magic.

Professor McGonagall invited up all to have another look at our timetables. The chaos had resolved, and we had Herbology with Sprout in ten minutes’ time.

~~

As we walked down to the greenhouses to meet her, I asked Malfoy what the music was.

“The _Symphony of Sorrowful Songs_. It’s by a Polish guy called Henryk Gorecki.”

“Do you have a complete recording of it?”

“No, but Uncle Severus does. I could see if he would let me borrow it.”

“If you could, that would be great. I’d like to listen to the whole thing, it sounded really interesting.”

Herbology was a revision class on mandrakes, so there’s nothing I can say that wasn’t covered in the somewhat fictional (and unauthorised) account of my Second Year that was published under the title _Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets_. [My legal team tell me that going after the author would be counterproductive. It’s better to get this true account of my Fifth Year out before someone publishes some tripe about it. I’ve heard some wild versions of what supposedly happened. I promise you that I did not have sex with either Dobby or Hagrid. Nor am I in love with Cho, Hermione, Snape, or Krum.]

When we got to the gym, we fond Te Awhiorangi there chatting to Stagnant. They were both sitting on weights benches. The tall Polynesian man was clad only in shorts and shoes. As we came in, he roared with laughter at something Stagnant had just said and leant back. On the shoulder and upper arm that had been covered by the cloak last night was a series of tattoos. A dusting of hairs was sprinkled across his chest and ran down from him belly button into his shorts.

We made the dojo bows to them both and were put to doing our warmups, with Te Awhiorangi doing them alongside us.

When we came to doing the main workout exercises, he worked with me and Malfoy while Stagnant focused on Justin and Neville. He was much more hands on than Stagnant and adjusted our positions several times. Even though the workout was the same exercises as the last two Mondays, they felt more intense as he got us moving through a fuller range than we had up till now. He also insisted that we did the reps in a particular tempo.

“Go slowly with gravity and explode against it,” was something he said more than once.

It was the first workout where we had three sets on most of the exercises and our legs and arms were burning by the time we’d got through. I was glad I didn’t need to shave afterwards as I didn’t think I’d be able to get my hands up to my face.

We were put to cycling as a warm down and watched as Te Awhiorangi was put through his paces by Stagnant. He was pretty strong and was deadlifting 180 kg when we were sent off for a sauna and a bottle of water each.

When we came out of the shower, he was preparing for his own shower.

“I will see you later,” he said as he went into one of the shower spaces still wearing his shorts and raised a full-height privacy screen around him.

“Damn,” said Justin quietly. “I was kinda hoping, you know …” and his voice trailed off.

“Come off it, mate,” said Neville. “Aren’t Mitch and Frankie enough to fuel your fantasies?”

He sighed, then shrugged with a grin. “Come on, let’s see what’s for lunch.”

~~

After our lunch of protein shakes, we headed up to Flitwick’s office.

“Right on time, gentlemen. Come in, come in. Now, today we’re doing something a little different, but before we do let’s do show and tell, as the Americans like to call it. Mr. Malfoy, would you go first please?”

“Certainly, Professor. Potter was to my left, so the object I’ve chosen is to reflect him.”

He pulled a snitch out of his pocket with a grin.

“Alright,” said Flitwick. “Now explain how this expresses Mr. Potter.”

“Well, there’s the Youngest Seeker in a Century thing, but that’s just the outward meaning of the snitch. Potter’s thought processes are often like following a snitch—fast and not easy to follow through the many jinks and dives. A snitch also remains hidden for sustained periods of time, and I thought that this aspect would represent the period of time when he was hidden from the Wizarding World.”

“Very good, Mr. Malfoy. I’m sure you have other metaphors in mind as well, but we’ll put them aside for the time being. Mr. Longbottom?”

“Justin was on my left and the object I’ve chosen to express him is this.” And he pulled out a figurine of Virgil Tracy.

“Wherever did you find that Neville?” asked Justin.

“Titus Sedares is a collector and was happy to lend me this duplicate. Anyway, the reason I’ve chosen this for you is that his expertise is in heavy lifting—the gym—and logistics—the way you keep us organised without us really noticing. Virgil is also an artist and a pianist, which contrasts with his understanding of demolition techniques. You can demolish almost any argument thrown up, but at the same time your sensitivity to the world around you makes you good at transfiguration. The rugged handsomeness of this chap is reflective of your tastes.”

We four laughed and Professor Flitwick said, “I suspect that there are things in that series of statements that it would be best if I didn’t fully understand. Thank you, Mr. Longbottom. Mr. Potter, now.”

I pulled out a plastic sunflower head. “Sorry that this is plastic, but the only place I could find a real one is in Neville’s private section of Glasshouse Six and he would have noticed immediately if I’d taken one of those. There is the obvious love of and talent for Herbology, but that could be represented by any plant. I wanted something that showed his openness to sharing his knowledge and his willingness to overlook past slights to see the real person. A sunflower is an open disc on the top of a tall stem. The stem of a sunflower is thick and holds the flowerhead steady. This represents not only Neville’s groundedness, but also his need for structure and support. The height thing also indicates that he will be the tallest of us four.”

Neville blushed at my precis but didn’t object to any of it.

“And Mr. Finch-Fletchley.”

“Well, obviously I got Draco to talk about. There were several ideas about him percolating in my mind, but in the end I chose this.” And he pulled out an exquisite crystal potions vial.

“Like Neville I’ve only borrowed this and will return it to its owner later. To begin with, it’s about Potions—which we all know is Draco’s passion—but, being crystal, it has the potential to contain a very wide range of different potions. Many people just see the external Malfoy—aloof and careful of all aspects of his appearance—and the way that crystal refracts light represents this. It dazzles and prevents most from seeing inside.”

“Thank you, gentlemen, for taking this exercise seriously. It’s a part of learning about yourself and each other. The more you understand how each of you thinks, the more effectively you’ll work together. And now, to today’s practical lesson.”

He led us to another room on the Charms corridor. This was a long narrow room that had windows on both sides with gauzy drapes that fluttered in the midsummer breeze. The sun shone in through a series of skylights that went the length of the room. I could barely make out the other end of the room, both because of the light and the distance away it was. The fact that such a room was impossible within the architecture of the Castle didn’t cross my mind until much later.

“Today we’re going to learn about casting together at a distance. On the floor there is a mark between each pair of windows. These marks are exactly ten metres apart. Please go and stand on the first four marks. Good. Now, without using your voices or your wands, please cooperatively produce a dog.”

It took a bit of work, but a few minutes later a crup was bounding around us wagging its forked tail. We found we’d needed to face in four different directions with the end two facing along the room and the others looking at a window.

“Very good. Now move so that you are two marks away from each other.”

We changed the order in which we were arranged and now there was sixty metres between me and Neville on the two ends. We quickly replicated our actions from the first attempt, and it wasn’t long before a bull mastiff was barking and demanding attention.

“Alright, three marks now.”

Another shuffle of the order we stood in and now Justin and Neville were on the ends and ninety metres apart. This time it wasn’t quite so easy, and we found that we needed to face diagonally across the room rather than straight on, but still in four different directions. A second bull mastiff joined the first.

We kept the same order for four and five marks, which is when Flitwick called a halt.

“That’s far enough apart for the time being. For one thing, we don’t need more dogs in this pack.” There were now three bull mastiffs, a newfoundland, and the crup. “You shouldn’t need to be working over a distance of more than 150 metres at present and, because you’re not used to this kind of magic, we don’t want to put you into magical exhaustion by mistake.”

“I don’t know, Madam Pomphrey’s chocolate is pretty good,” laughed Justin.

“Yes, but she has to report all hospital wing visits to the Headmaster—particularly if any of them involve Mr. Potter in any way. And he would need to know why you were magically exhausted.”

Yes, well. That sobered us up quickly. We tidied up, deconstructed the dogs, and moved back to Flitwick’s office, where we spent the remainder of the class discussing what difference the order we stood in had made.

“Alright then, on Thursday we’ll go back into that room and devise some other ways of working.”


	45. First Class with Te Awhiorangi

When we reached the Runes’ classroom I groaned.

“What’s wrong, Harry?” asked Justin.

I waved my hand at the desks. Instead of being clustered in a group, they were set out in two columns a couple of metres apart.

“I forgot we were doing the Third-Year test today and didn’t do any revision yesterday for it.”

“You’ll be fine,” he said reassuringly.

We sat down and pulled out quills and ink and a couple of minutes later were busily reading and answering the questions on the paper.

  1. State three common uses for Futhark runes.
  2. Explain why writing a fire rune on this test paper would be a bad idea.
  3. Compare and contrast the different ways of inscribing runes.

There were twelve questions in total and once I’d read these first three my confidence returned, and I settled to completing the test.

After an hour, Professor Babbling announced that time was up and that she would mark them immediately while we returned to studying Devanagari warding runes.

At five minutes before the end of the class, she called for our attention.

“I’m delighted to advise that all twelve of you achieved either Exceeds Expectations or Outstanding on that test. We will therefore be progressing onto the Fourth-Year revision work at the Tutorial on Thursday.”

She then flicked her wand and our grades appeared on our desks on scraps of parchment. I was happy with my E, particularly when I saw that I was only one mark off from an O. A bit more work, and I’d get it up there on the next test.

I looked sideways and saw that Neville was staring at his parchment scrap, blinking rapidly.

“What’s wrong Nev?”

“Nothing. I just don’t believe what I got in the test.”

“Why?”

“97% is not a grade I’ve ever seen before.”

“Oh, well done, Neville.”

~~

Spell Creation class had been cut by twenty minutes and Runes by ten in our new timetables. This, along with ten minutes out of our end of day study period, gave us an extra forty-minute period at the end of the day. We made our way to the Eastern corridor on the Fourth Floor. A classroom about halfway down now had an ornately carved doorframe painted in a rich ochre. The lintel was made of two boards that were set at ninety degrees to each other and sloped down almost to the floor. The carvings on the posts and lintel were of stylised men and women with abalone shells set into the places where their eyes were. At the very top of the peak of the lintel there was a small carved figure with a large erection.

As the last couple of people arrived, the door slid sideways in its frame and a voice rang out in challenge.

“Who is it that comes to this place?”

We looked at each other in confusion. Weren’t we supposed to be here?

Then Ernie spoke up, “uh, it’s the Fifth-Year students who are scheduled to be here.”

“And what are your intentions by coming here to this place?”

“To learn from what you have to teach us, sir.”

“Then enter ye, one by one, through the door of truth. As ye do enter, declare your name and your honour.”

There was a pause as the more cautious among us hung back to see what would happen. Then the Gryffindors started with Seamus first. Dean was soon after him. We heard them say their names, then they disappeared from view as they took a second step.

We four looked at each other, then shrugged. Whatever happened, it wasn’t going to be harmful. I followed Neville through the door and said, “Harry Potter. I intend no harm to any in this place.”

I found myself standing on a small ledge on the side of a mountain. I couldn’t see far as there was cloud surrounding me. The sound of water running over rapids came distantly from below and the cry of a parrot of some kind came from not far above me. I felt out with my magic and sensed that this was an illusion and that I was in an ordinary classroom. I couldn’t see them, but I could feel that Neville was right beside me and Justin and Draco were coming up on my other side.

The cloud suddenly parted and I caught a glimpse of snowy peaks rising from the side of a lake that was sparkling blue green in the sunlight. I heard Justin gasp the word “magnificent,” but had no time for more as the cloud came back. A few seconds it rose again, and we were standing in a group at the back of the classroom.

After a couple of minutes more, everyone had come in and the door swung shut. [Don’t ask me to explain how a door that moved sideways on the outside could swing shut on the inside. I can only offer the word “magic.”]

Other that us students the room appeared to be empty. However, I could sense a powerful nexus of magic near the podium on which the teacher’s desk stood.

I had a vague memory of reading somewhere that in Polynesian cultures visitors were expected to provide a gift and wondered for a moment what the right gift would be.

“Sir,” I said to the place where the magic was. “We are come to receive your instruction in the ways of magic. The only gift that we can honour this place with is our willingness to hear and learn.”

A wave of magic rolled over us, testing and probing.

“Your proffered gift is accepted and is now accorded the status of _taonga_. The bond between teacher and student is sacred and none may disturb it without suffering great dishonour to both them and their people.”

With that, the nexus of magic coalesced into the form of Te Awhiorangi. He was dressed as he had been on the previous evening: cloak, a skirt that descended to his knees, but bare-headed, -chested, and -footed. His staff was in his hand.

He beckoned us forward and said, “please take seats.”

There was a feeling that in this classroom we would be orderly and quiet, as it would be dishonourable to do anything else.

“My name, as you heard last night, is Te Awhiorangi. I am of the Ngāti Awa people and come from the Hapū based at Uiraroa marae near the settlement the pakeha call Edgecumbe. By mana and by descent I hold the title of Rangatira for my iwi.

“Some of you, no doubt, are wondering why you have been scheduled to this class. The answer to that is simple. It doesn’t matter what your background is, you all have things to learn about the world of magic. Also, I will be teaching you through the lens of a culture foreign to most of you.”

“Sir?” began Terry.

“Ariki please. ‘Sir’ is a white man’s title and is often used today without the honourable sense it used to have. Carry on with your question, Tāne Boot.”

“That mountain illusion. Where is the real place?”

“Excellent question. It is in the range of mountains known as the Southern Alps on the land known to my people as Te Waipounamu.”

A few other hands were up, and he called on Hannah next.

“Ariki, could you please explain to us more about the way we entered the classroom?”

“Certainly. This is a place of meeting. We meet on several levels. There is the physical—where our bodies are. On this level we meet through the five senses. Then there is the mind. We meet through the words of our conversation as we share ideas, impart knowledge, and come to understanding. A third level is that of the spirit. This is where we meet at a deeper level than words or touch. This is where we care for and about each other. And at a fourth level, we share air. We Māori express this with the word _wairua_. Wairua is the word for air and the word for spirit. For us it’s an expression of our essence. It is who I am, it is the song that I sing, the stories that I tell and hear. Without it, in all its meanings, I pass to Hawaikii—the land of my ancestors.

“When I issued the _wero_, or challenge, I asked you to identify yourselves and your purpose. This is always the first step in any meeting. It communicates expectations to all who are present.

“The next step was to invite you into the space. We did that in two parts this afternoon. The first was to welcome your senses with the sounds and sights of my home. Then the second was the physical welcome with the invitation to sit. You heard Fiona say similar things yesterday when she sang the _karanga_. First, she asked the who and why, which I replied to. Then she spoke of the people—human and non-human—who dwell here at Hogwarts, and of their connection to the land. My reply stated that I would honour the place and that my _koha_ was my willingness to share all that I have learnt over the years of my life. Then she welcomed me to come physically into the full presences of you all with the words _haere haere haere mai_.”

Blaise was the next to be called on.

“Yes, takatāpui Zabini.”

“Is there meaning behind your tattoos, and does it hurt to have them created?”

“I’ll take your second question first. Yes, getting the face tattooed most definitely hurts and traditional tattoos are never done with an anaesthetic of any kind. This means that the whole face cannot be done in a single session, rather it happens over the course of several weeks or months. The more tattooed the face—the braver the warrior.

“In answer to the meanings behind them, I have two sets of tattoos that carry different meanings and intentions.” He shuffled his cloak so that his other shoulder and arm could be seen. “This one, on my arm, represents my whakapapa, or lineage. This part represents me.” He was pointing to an ornate set of swirls that, when I squinted, looked like a swimming dolphin. “Above it are representations of my ancestors. And below are my descendants. Note that there are two strands below, one for the children of my flesh, and the other for my descendants in magic.”

I noticed that there was a single line that was separate from the rest of those above the dolphin. It curled around the back of his arm and I wondered if that was his magical ancestry.

“The ta moko on my face are about my attributes, both as a mundane warrior and as a magic practitioner. There are patterns for courage, virility, defender of the defenceless, and being an expert wielder of the tiaho. These are combined with patterns for my skills in transfiguration, spell creation, and magical travel.”

Although his words were those of self-praise, he didn’t come across that way. He was just stating facts.

“Thank you, Ariki,” said Blaise.

Hermione was next. “Professor, I noticed that you used the word ‘mundane’ instead of ‘muggle’. Is that a cultural choice?”

“Ah, one of the vital questions for this course of study. The word ‘muggle’ is a very derogative term and is a grave slur to cast at anyone. It has a similar standing to the word ‘nigger’. The word ‘muggle’ was coined in sixteenth century England as a word for non-magical people who were employed by the Ministry of Magic to perform menial tasks. Often these mundanes had no idea that they worked in a magical setting. This was seen as a lack of intelligence—despite the fact that they were shielded from most magic and the rest was explained away as coincidence. The word has a similar derivation as the nineteenth century ‘muggins.’ The term quickly spread to refer to all non-magical folk. Outside of this country the word ‘muggle’ is never used. The fact that your political leaders continue to use the term does not sanctify it and you will be expected not to use it at all in this classroom.

“Now that we’ve talked about it, the first use will result in a warning, the second through fifth in the loss of house points in an ascending exponential scale. Beyond that detention and expulsion from the class with a recorded fail grade.

“Before you ask the obvious question, yes, I am fully aware that there is a course of study here at Hogwarts the title ‘Muggle Studies’. I intend to work to change this course, in title at least.”

He stopped taking questions at that point and tapped the board lightly with his staff. The first words that appeared had us worried until we had read through the rest.

Course Aims

  1. To come to an understanding of how the magical world works. Where needed contrasts with the mundane world will be given; 
  2. To explore the cultural aspects of the magical world; 
  3. To gain enough knowledge to pass the OWL in June; and 
  4. To have fun while learning. 

“Yes, number four is real,” he said after giving us a few moments to read the list. “We learn better when we are enjoying ourselves. That doesn’t mean that there aren’t going to be serious matters discussed, but the learning context will still be an enjoyable one.

“The first serious matter is to lay down some rules for this classroom. However, the difference between me and your other teachers, is that you will set the rules between you. Who would like to go first?”

Neville’s hand was straight in the air.

“Everyone in here is equal, regardless of race, parentage, or magical ability.”

As he spoke his words appeared on a second whiteboard. [Yes, this was a modern classroom. While the other teachers were still using a chalkboard, Te Awhiorangi had whiteboards and coloured markers.]

Adeyemi was next. “Could we add a couple of others to Mr. Longbottom’s list? I propose creed and gender.”

They were added to the board.

Crabbe put up his hand. “Everyone’s opinions are valued, even when you don’t agree with them.”

Susan suggested, “rebut the argument and not the person.”

Hermione was next with, “everyone to have done the prereading before each class.”

Blaise offered, “avoid distractions.” When xe was asked to clarify, xe added, “I mean things like two-way mirrors, passing notes, doodling, conversations on topics outside the lesson, and so on.”

Sedares suggested that any debates should follow formal process.

We were then led in a discussion of the various proposals, including clarifying the details of a couple of them. We decided in the end to ditch Hermione’s and Blaise’s in favour of a replacement about honouring the place. Then we combined Sedares’, Vince’s and Susan’s suggestions into one and extended Neville’s even further than Adeyemi had suggested to include political standing, sexual orientation and personal wealth.

“Very well, we have five minutes remaining. I am going to use them to introduce another concept in Māoriotanga—that of mana. The dictionary defines ‘mana’ as ‘prestige, authority, control, power, influence, status, spiritual power, charisma.’ But these are just words, for it means all these things and more. Objects, people, and places all hold or have mana to varying degrees. It is always spoken of as something tangible, yet it cannot be touched. Mana cannot be increased by our own efforts, but others may choose to accord us greater honour and thereby increase our mana. We can also lose it, or have it downgraded, when through our actions or words we cause others to lose confidence in us. I’m sure that you can think of examples of both in your personal lives.

“Your assignment for next time is to consider this concept and how it might relate to magic practitioners. It will be a discussion—you will not be handing in any written work for this topic.”

And we were dismissed.


	46. Bewatching Rodents

That evening, Te Awhiorangi was the main topic of conversation in the Common Room. So far, the Second- and Fourth-Year students had had a class with him as well as us. The other Years wanted to know the details. A couple of the Seconds and developed massive crushes already, and it was obvious that they would be followed by others.

The Second Years had been shown a view looking out over the Pacific Ocean from a small peninsula called Kaikoura. There’d been the cry of gulls and, while they were watching, a whale breached out on the water. The Fourths had found themselves in a forest with the early morning sun filtering through. The noise of small birds calling was almost deafening. A plume of steam spouted from a bubbling pool of mud. Unfortunately, no one thought to ask where it was.

“Unimaginative lot, these Fourth Years,” muttered Justin, as we headed for our desk to work on our latest assignments.

~~

Despite carefully clearing my mind and flying myself to sleep, I dreamt of the graveyard again. This time it wasn’t Cedric who died, but Neville. I was so incensed that I broke the ropes binding me to the gravestone, raised my staff and sent a ball of pure blue magic directly at the cauldron and changed the chemistry of the contents just as the thing that was Riddle was dropped in. There was an inarticulate scream as the alkaline solution burnt through flesh, and the stink of ammonia permeated the graveyard.

“Wormtail, what have you done?”

“It wasn’t me, Master, it was the Potter boy,” cringed the groveller.

“Harry Potter,” rang in my head. “Stop messing with things you do not understand.” A burst of lime green magic sparked through the graveyard and come to rest on the cauldron. It then spun up into the shape of the cauldron and started to transform my blue magic.

I thought, “bugger that,” and pulsed the blue magic so hard that the cauldron cracked and leaked the fluid out on to the ground where it burned all the plants it landed on and started to eat away at the soil underneath.

The green and blue magics started swirling in and out of each other like they were fighting it out. Neither became dominant, nor did they lose any of their vibrancy.

A whistle suddenly pierced the air and the green magic rushed away and disappeared while I called the blue back to me. I was about to summon the cup to where I stood beside Neville’s body when everything reformed.

“Kill the spare.”

I hadn’t yet pulled my magic back in, so I quickly spun it up around us into a multi-faceted spherical shield. The incoming green spell light was deflected and fizzled out as it raced up into the sky.

There was no time to watch it as Cedric worked quickly to incapacitate Pettigrew. The sound of several people apparating in distracted me and there was suddenly a barrage of coloured light heading towards u from multiple directions. For a moment, it looked like it would overwhelm us, then my shield strengthened as Draco and Neville poured strength into it. The spells began to reflect out in various directions and the newcomers were hard pressed to avoid them.

I felt rather than saw Cedric slump down beside me. An Avada had slipped through. Snakeface rose out of the cauldron and floated across the space between us, like he was a dementor.

“Harry, Harry,” he shook his head at me. “When will you learn not to oppose me? I am after all the most powerful wizard of all time.”

I snorted. “You? Not to hear Binns tell it—or did you sleep through his classes, like every other Slytherin or Hufflepuff in the past hundred years?” I rushed on, not giving him a chance to answer. “Actually, I know a couple of mundaneborn students who are more powerful than you.”

He lifted his wand and the scene reformed again.

“Enough!” I yelled, and I grabbed Cedric’s sleeve in one hand and the cup in the other and was whirled away again only to land by myself in the black corridor. A feeling of deep longing to know what was on the other side of the door at the end filled me as I wandered down towards it. The feelings dissipated as I zoomed up into the sky above the pitch.

~~

**Tuesday, 24 September**

As Justin and I started on our run he asked me, “what were you dreaming about last night?”

I related what had happened.

“I think you need to let Snape know. We’ve got that free period before lunch.”

“Can’t do it then. We’ve got the boys for their tutoring. And I think Snape’s got the NEWT class then, anyway.”

“The boys wouldn’t mind, but …”

“Snape would. And I wanted to do some real defence stuff with them, anyway.”

“D’you reckon that’d be safe? She seems to have got over the problems with the knocker—or, at least, she has some way to get into Ravenclaw Tower.”

“Bring them up here instead. I want do some practical stuff with them—basic shielding to begin with.”

“They’ve got History immediately before, so I’ll tell them to head up here directly from there.”

“Cool, and I’ll get Dobby to sort some snacks and drinks.”

“Will you need to do that? I mean the Room has provided that for us each time we come up here,” and he waved at the table with water on it.

“Uh, Gamp’s Law?”

He face-palmed. “Oh, yeah. ‘Water is the exception to the first exception.’ Forgot that.”

“Anyway, how did you know I had one of those dreams last night? I know I put the silencing charms up.”

“Yeah, it’s more the way you look in the morning after them.”

“Oh. Didn’t know it was that obvious.”

“Nah, it’s not obvious. Least not to casual observers. Gotta know you fairly well to pick it.”

“Justin, that snake thing in Second Year …”

“Don’t worry about that, Harry. I believe you now. I didn’t at the time ’cause I didn’t understand these things. Remember that I’m mug— mundane-born. (Gotta keep practicing that.) So I’d never heard of anyone actually talking to a snake, and in the heat of the moment I couldn’t get the sequence of events correct. Then the other Hufflepuffs didn’t help.”

“And straight after that the whole Heir of Slytherin think blew up,” I sighed.

“Pretty much, yeah.”

We finished our run with a sprint down the home straight, then he pulled me into a brotherly kind of hug.

“I accept you as you are, Harry.”

I croaked out some kind of thanks, desperately not leaking tears. I just wasn’t used to this kind of things, and the body contact of hugs could be overwhelming sometimes.

~~

Breakfast brought news of another Educational Decree.

> “Familiars must not be taken to classes.”

“Doesn’t seem unreasonable,” I commented. “Is she slipping in her standards?” I said with a grin.

“Actually, it is unreasonable for students whose familiar is a magic potentiator,” said Neville as we arrived at Transfiguration. “A familiar can assist in the performance of some magic—particularly for those with weaker magic.”

“I heard there was a territorial fight between a couple of rat familiars in the Third Year Defence class yesterday,” said Malfoy. “Not helped by students laying bets on the outcome, nor by the deposit of owl dung on her chair while she was dealing with the fight.”

“Yeah, and no-one would admit to owning the animals, so she tried to put the whole class in detention, but Hogwarts’ magic wouldn’t let her,” added Justin.

“Absolutely,” replied the Mage. “And that isn’t going to change any time soon.”

McGonagall was on fiery form at the beginning of class, and even Ron and Parkinson were careful not to cross her.

“I assume that you have all seen the latest Educational Decree,” she began in a broader brogue than usual. “Those of you who need to bring your familiar to this course of study will let me know at the end of today’s session, and I will work to arrange a dispensation for you. You may need to demonstrate your need, but that can also be arranged.

“There is no shame in needing a familiar to assist with some branches of your magic. It is perfectly normal and does not indicate weakness of any kind. Some of the most powerful magic users across history have utilised familiars for large parts of their magic working. There are also some who work best in combination with another magic user. Magical affinities are real, and they are often inter-species.

“Enough about that. So far this year you have worked on inanimate to inanimate and animate to inanimate transfigurations. There are two obvious groupings left. This week is inanimate to animate, and next week we will explore animate to animate. There are the abstract transfigurations yet to be dealt with. We shall begin looking at those when we return from the winter break. Up until then, we will be concentrating on concrete transfigurations.

“Today you will be transfiguring these pocket watches into rodents.”

She gave two flicks of her wand and a pocket watch arrived on each of our desks.

“You may work in pairs, with one doing the transfiguration and the other standing ready to subdue the animal, if required.”

We four paired up and Blaise come across to sit with Greg.

Justin, of course, was the first to achieve a white rat after about fifteen minutes. He quickly undid it before Professor McGonagall came across.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I want a better mark than Achieve, which is what a white rat would be worth.”

He went through the routine again, and this time there was a small colony of chinchilla in front of him. I quickly conjured a cage around them before they bounced away.

There was a call of “quick, grab it,” from the nearby desks where Cho and Adeyemi were working. We looked up and saw a gerbil scampering away. My cage, Justin’s stunner and Greg’s fist collided leaving the gerbil free to continue its escape. Terry swooped in and caught it in a plastic box

“I’m sorry, guys,” said Cho. “I wasn’t expecting it to be that fast.”

We shrugged and then turned to working out how to sort out Greg’s hand, which was dangling loosely from his forearm with a cage around it. The wires were completely through his wrist—without any blood—but still … Fortunately, he thought it was funny.

McGonagall came over and took a look. “You might have to go and see Madam Pomphrey, but let’s see if we can solve it first.”

She used a general reversal spell, but nothing happened.

Neville spoke up. “Harry and Justin’s spells hit at the same time. What if they try a simultaneous reversal?”

“Of each other’s spells,” suggested Malfoy.

“Well, I cannot see any harm in your trying.”

We got ourselves sorted, including working out what the counters were. Then Cho counted us in. Nothing.

“Did you mesh?” asked Neville.

We tried again and were successful in releasing the cage, which fell to the floor with a clatter. However, his hand was still useless. He resisted McGonagall’s attempts to get him to go the Hospital Wing.

“It’s okay P’fessor, I’ll go at the end of class. I need to be here as much as possible.”

“Very well. Continue the rest of you,” and she walked away.

Gret muttered something to Blaise and xe gave a burst of laughter.

“I suppose it’s as good a way to find out as any.”

“What are they talking about?” I asked.

“There’s a theory that wanking with a hand that has no feeling in it feels like someone else is doing it to you,” replied Justin. “I suspect that Goyle will take his time getting to the hospital wing.”

I snorted. “Should have realised it would have something to do with sex.”

It was my turn to try the transfiguration and I couldn’t decide which rodent to go for, so I ended up with a cross between a grey squirrel and a chipmunk. It looked weird and I quickly cancelled it before trying again. This time it was all chipmunk and Justin popped it into the cage I’d conjured before and slipped it some sunflower seeds.

We then had leisure to look around and see what the others had produced. Blaise had a standard ship’s rat, while Greg had somehow managed around his stunned wand hand and had just produced a porcupine. It wasn’t happy and was starting to back up ready to slam its quills into his face when Blaise quickly conjured a lump of concrete between them.

Ron had managed a rat that looked like Wormtail’s animagus form, except that it had a watch face on its side, while Parkinson’s dormouse showed no interest in anything. It just curled up and shut its eyes. I wondered briefly if it was dreaming of geraniums (red) and delphiniums (blue).

For the rest of the class, there was a mixture of mice, rats, hamsters, and guinea pigs—except, of course, for Neville and Malfoy. A large beaver was looking curiously around the room from a small pool.

Professor McGonagall was working her way around the room awarding grades. “Mr. Weasley, if you want a passing grade, you will need to have another try. A fine specimen of an Abyssinian guinea pig, Ms. Davis, it would not be out of place in a show. Take an E for that, and you also Ms. Cotterill. Mr. Boot, an A for your jerboa. It’s cross-eyed. Mr. Goyle, I am impressed that you were able to produce such an animal with your hand out of action. Very well done, too. Take an O.”

Greg’s face flushed red and he nearly burst into tears. We didn’t comment on that, but murmured “well done, mate.”

“A family of chinchilla, hmm? Very well, Mr. Finch-Fletchley, an E. Same also, Mr. Potter, for your chipmunk. Oh …”

She broke off staring at the beaver.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting that. Which of you did the transfiguration?”

“Both of us, Professor, and we needed to use both watches to achieve it. We just couldn’t get enough mass from one when we tried.”

As she came closer, the beaver chittered at her, then slapped the water in the pool with its tail.

“It’s alright, I’m not a predator,” she said.

The beaver looked back at her disbelievingly.

“Alright, alright,” and she backed off. “An O for both of you.”

She returned to Ron’s desk. “Did you try again, Mr. Weasley?”

He sullenly pointed at his adjusted rat. It looked even more like Scabbers.

“Very well, an A.

“Now, you all achieved this transfiguration. What made doing this one easier for you than the other transfiguration exercises that we have done so far this year? Consider this in the light of our discussion a couple of weeks ago when we talked about the difficulty of changing a desk into a pig. Two feet on this to be handed in when we meet later in the week. Please revert your transfigurations and place your pocket watches back into this box. Class dismissed.”

We had about ten minutes before we were due in Charms, so we took our time packing up. A few people were talking to Professor McGonagall about their familiars, but she paused to call out, “don’t forget to go to the Hospital Wing, Mr. Goyle. I shall know if you don’t.”

He nodded and left.

As we walked across, we passed a bathroom.

“Hold on guys, I need to take a pee,” I said. “Particularly, if we’re still going to be working with water in Charms.”

They laughed and we all went in to empty our bladders. I’d just finished shaking off, when I heard a faint gasp from around the corner where the stalls were. I tucked myself away, then walked quietly in that direction. Greg was standing in full view, leaning against a pillar. His trousers and underpants were at his knees, and he’d bunched his robes up about his waist. He was flailing away at his dick with the hand I had numbed. I slipped away again, unseen.

“What’s going on?” asked Malfoy.

“It’s Greg having a wank. Leave him to it.”

We washed our hands and left. Justin put an “out of order” sign on the door as we went.

“It’s keyed to Goyle, so it’ll vanish when he leaves. Give the guy a bit of privacy.”


	47. Shielding for Dummies

Flitwick began the Charms lesson with a similar offer to McGonagall’s about using familiars in his class. It was obvious that the staff weren’t happy with Umbridge on this matter and they were prepared to do whatever necessary to work around her.

“Now, we will continue to work on the Vanishing Charms for liquids. With Professor Snape’s help, I have set up several liquids in various containers. You need to identify the liquids and the containers, then decide which of the four charms would be best suited to each. Work in pairs.”

Malfoy and I worked together on this one and decided to go the opposite way around to Justin and Neville.

First up was a clear liquid in a stoppered glass container. It had the consistency of water, but I was suspicious because of the stopper.

“Gin, vodka, or hydrochloric acid?” I asked.

“Most likely the last of those.”

“So, deliquesco. Break down and disperse to atmosphere.”

“No. Hydrogen chloride gas reacts with atmospheric water and creates acid fumes. The HCl molecules are already the simplest form. It needs to be mixed with a base and then it can be evanescoed with no problems.”

“But wouldn’t that depend on the amount of the acid and how widely the molecules were dispersed—using intent.”

He got a thoughtful look on his face, but then shook his head. “The average wixen doesn’t know enough to do that properly, so it’s best to neutralise first.”

I accepted that and we moved on to a cauldron of sludge.

“Evanesco followed by detention,” he said in his best Snape voice.

A few stations later we met up with Justin and Neville over a flask of a thick yellowish substance that glooped occasionally.

The four of us stared at it for a moment, then Justin tentatively said, “you know it’s about the same shade as that _Eremophila musca_ …”

“Of course,” we exclaimed. “Stinksap.”

“Just never seen so much of it together like that,” said Neville. “Either evanesco or effluo would work—although it would be a waste of such a good lot of it.”

“You’ve got some interesting stuff coming up,” added Justin as we parted.

Two stations later we were assailed by the smell of ammonia. I muttered, “interesting, he says. It’s piss. Effluo.”

The next was plain water in a plastic dish—evaporo—then a tiny cup of a dark brown fluid that had a strong smell to it.

“Hmm, a café americano,” I said.

Malfoy looked startled at me. “Why ‘americano’?”

“From the way it’s been made. A double-shot espresso diluted with hot water. Various theories as to why it got its name. Probably the G.I.s in the Second World War.”

“How do you know these things, Potter?”

“Made enough coffee over the years to make Petunia the envy of her book club. Never drank any of it myself, of course.”

“Another three minutes,” called Flitwick.

We had two places to go, so moved on to a cauldron that was covered with a clear lid. Malfoy took one look and wrote quickly on his parchment. I needed to look more carefully, then realised it was Amortentia.

We looked at each other and said “effluo” at the same time.

The last station was a glass flask with a green-tinged liquid in it.

“Pond scum?” I queried.

“Hmm, good thought,” and we both wrote it down just as time up was called.

We handed in our parchments and then Professor Flitwick quickly went over what the various liquids were. We’d only got one wrong—what we’d thought was blackcurrant juice turned out to be a purple variety of gillywater.

~~

Justin had spoken to Titch at breakfast and we met the boys on the staircase leading to the Seventh Floor. I went ahead and did the usual three passes thinking hard about what we needed. A plain varnished wooden door appeared. On entering the room, it was similar to the way that Remus had set up his classroom. There was a bookcase on the wall beside the door; pictures of various creatures on the side walls; and a large duelling space.

Buggins, de Vries, and Justin had started for the bookcase when I called out, “later guys. I’m as interested as you are, but we’ve got some practical stuff to do first.”

I got everyone together then said, “right. Books away, wands out.”

That earned a chuckle from them all.

“Shielding,” I announced. “I want to test how good your shields are. If we have time, we’ll cover how to attack a shield. Now, in case you’ve forgotten from Flitwick’s lessons last year, the incantation is _protego_. There are others, but they’re harder to get right if you haven’t got this one down.”

I corrected the pronunciation of a couple. “The emphasis is on the second syllable: proh-TAY-go.”

Then I got everyone to produce a shield.

“Justin, what can you see?”

“Yours is the strongest and most solid, of course, while Arnold’s is the weakest.”

“That makes sense. I’ll work one-on-one with Arnold for a bit, while you three work with the others to improve their shields, okay?”

I took Arnold off to one side and started by ripping the scab off the wound.

“How frequently are you abused at home, Arnold?”

He looked stunned for a moment, then hissed at me, “I’m not abused.”

“So, what form do your punishments take?”

“I just get smacked about a bit, but it’s nothing really.”

“Let me tell you something about me that I’ve never told anyone else.” And I proceeded to talk to him about a couple of Uncle Vernon’s normal punishments. I also told him what I had done to merit such.

“But that’s awful. How could he do that to you?”

“He thinks he can beat the magic out of me.”

“Oh,” came back in a small voice. “And you think my foster parents …”

“Do they understand you?”

“No,” he sighed. “And they don’t even try.”

“When I first came to Hogwarts, I had real problems with conjuring a shield. Can you think why that might be?”

He thought carefully, then proved why he was in Ravenclaw. “Because you weren’t allowed to defend yourself and that’s what a shield is for.”

“Exactly. And you, why do you have problems conjuring a shield?”

His eyes teared up as he said, “for the same reason. But how did you get over that?”

“You see the blond guy over there?”

“What, Malfoy? Did he teach you how to do it?”

“Not exactly. For various reasons that I won’t go into today we were enemies and he kept mocking me and my new friends. The mocking didn’t stay at the level of words, there were also jinxes. Well, I didn’t care so much for me, but when he attacked my friends one time, I suddenly found that I really really wanted to defend them, and a huge shield formed around us. It blocked the corridor outside Potions and even Snape couldn’t get through until I’d dispelled it.”

“So, your intent was a big factor?”

“It was the only factor. Remember that intent is behind all magic—even accidental. So, when I conjured the shield just now, my intent was to have a shield that could protect all of you from _any_ physical danger.

“Now, who do you care about more than anyone else in the world?”

“Don’t know. Don’t really have anyone.”

“So, no really good friend?”

“I suppose Andrew and Tyrone …” and he trailed off.

“Alright, so we’ll use them to start with.”

I conjured simulacra of the two, then silently asked the Room to put them in physical danger. The boy stared wide-eyed at them, but did nothing to prevent them from being squashed by huge rock.

“Why didn’t you protect them?”

“I knew they weren’t real, so I didn’t need to do anything.”

“Tyrone, my man,” I called out. “Get yourself over here.”

“Yeah, man. What you want Harry?”

I explained that I was going to throw jinxes at him and that only Arnold was allowed to protect him. I immediately started with tarantellagra and followed it with a jelly-legs.

Arnold just stood there looking calm, not even raising his wand, while Tyrone fell to the ground with his legs moving uncontrollably.

“I know what you’re trying to do, but it won’t work because I know you won’t really hurt him.”

Justin came across and countered the two jinxes, then called “all change,” before sending me and Tyrone across to the others while he stayed with Arnold.

I spent time with each of the other five. Titch was over-powering his protego and was in danger of going into magical exhaustion, so I got him to stop producing them and to spend some time on the theory. We found a book called _Shielding for Dummies_, which seemed to cover what was needed.

About ten minutes later Justin brought Arnold over.

“I think we’ve got it now,” was all he said before nodding to Arnold.

“Protego,” and a shield blossomed from his wand and spread around him.

“Oh, well done,” I said. “Now, I’m going to raise a shield. You each have one minute to cast against it. If you break it, I’ll buy you the sweets of your choice from Honeydukes.”

“Is there a limit to what we can cast?” asked Tyrone.

“No fatal curses or unforgiveables. Who’s going first?”

They did a quick round of “potions knife, parchment, rock” and Tyrone stepped forward. He started with a series of jinxes, then threw in a bombarda. They all bounced off or were absorbed by my shield. He paused to think, then tried a confringo. It too was absorbed.

Titch Salisbury was next, and his stutter was getting in the way of any useful casting until Justin called out, “use the force, Luke.”

The lad laughed and cast a perfect shattering charm (quasso finite) that I hadn’t anticipated, and my shield cracked and allowed the bombarda that followed it to finish it off.

I grinned at him, shook his hand, then said, “should never have found that book for you, eh? Alright, who’s next?”

Buggins thought he’d be cute and try the same combination, but this time the shield held and nothing else he tried got through either.

Piet was up next, and he got through by hiding a confringo in a barrage of Dutch words that I was too busy trying to understand to notice it was there.

Tenggara grinned at me and raised both hands in the air to the right of his body before saying “destroy Harry’s shield” while pulling his hands down sharply in the shape of a lightening bolt. That caused a crack to appear in my shield and, before I could think to repair it, he sent a cloud sailing over the top of me that dumped its contents in the form of a brief but heavy downpour. I lost my concentration and the shield fell.

“Why did it work for you in English, Andrew?” asked Neville.

“Because English is not my first language. At home we speak Bahasa, and sometimes I have to concentrate to keep using English.”

“That makes sense,” I said, while casting drying charms over myself. “Arnold, see if you can earn some Honeydukes as well.”

The lad looked carefully at me, then conjured some pebbles and a sling. The first pebble pinged off my shield causing Malfoy to duck quickly as it spun over his head. He tried bouncing one in from behind, but I had anticipated a physical attack from behind and my shield was circular. Actually, it was closer to spherical after Andrew’s overhead trick.

He muttered something over the next couple of stones, then cast them at exactly the same spot he’d hit the first time. I caused my shield to catch the second of them and took a look at it. It was covered in sharp projections.

“Nice thought, but remember a magical shield is not made of glass.”

The next pebble struck and hung on to my shield before extruding a probe that started sucking out some of the magic holding the shield together. I had to collapse the shield quickly before it latched onto my core.

“Arnold, you and I need to have a conversation with the Weasley twins about what you’ve just invented there. I’ll explain more later.”

He nodded.

“Alright, so four galleons worth of Honeydukes coming up this weekend.”

“Don’t we get to have a try too, Potter?” asked Malfoy.

“Sure.”

Neville went first and broke my shield by causing plants to grow all over it on both outside and inside. Then Justin used his magic sight to find the weak spots and utilised those.

Which left Malfoy, who simply sent a series of destruction spells at it in a stream of “destruo confringo labefacto abolefacio demolior excscindo” until it simply gave up.

“What shield spell were you using, Harry? It wasn’t the standard protego one,” said Neville.

“No, that wouldn’t have stood up to most of what any of you sent at me. I was using a version of _scutum_. There’s a couple of problems with most shields other than protego. What are they?”

I got various answers, but none of the boys had the key ones.

“Remember what happened when Andrew sent the raincloud in?”

“Oh, it took your concentration away from the shield.”

“Yes, this shield needs to be constantly maintained. The spells it absorbed helped to strengthen it by stealing the magic out of them, but even that took concentration on my part. There’s another problem with using this shield in a battle situation.”

In the end Justin took pity on them and said, “if you can’t get a spell through from outside, you can’t a spell through from inside either.”

“Yup, I can see that that would be a problem,” laughed Buggins.

Dobby popped into the Room. “You is having ten minutes to go down to lunch, great and wonderful Master Harry Potter and Master Draco.”

“Thank you, Dobby.”

He squeaked before popping away again and we sorted ourselves out and made our departure. But not before warning the six boys against saying anything to anyone about today’s tutorial session.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The silly season combined with a series of fine summer days caused delays in getting this chapter sorted. I should be back to my regular schedule from now.


	48. Earning a Detention

We were still buzzed during lunch. The chance to do some practical Defence work had been a good, but with our afternoon classes of double Defence followed by double History impending we needed to bring our enthusiasm under check. Mind you, the new timetable meant that both of our classes had been cut by 20 minutes, so that was good.

We were all gathered in the corridor outside the Defence classroom, waiting for her to open the door to let us in, when she puffed up the corridor behind us in a somewhat dishevelled state.

“Are you okay, Professor?” asked Lisa Turpin.

“What? Yes, yes, I’m fine. Just had to deal with Peeves. Give me a couple of moments.” And she entered her office, closing the door behind her.

Millicent Bulstrode had been standing the closest to her office and she turned to those of us who near her and asked, “did I really see all that pink in there?”

There were murmurs of assent.

“It, it, it was horrible. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind pink as an accent colour, but …” She broke off and shuddered.

Just then, the classroom door opened, and Professor Umbridge stood there immaculate in a fresh set of pink robes.

As we started moving towards the door Justin muttered, “told you yesterday morning’s display was a crock.”

“Good afternoon, children.” Pause for response. “Our time together today is shorter than it has been because of our timetable adjustments, so we’ll get straight into today’s lesson. Chapter Five of Mr. Slinkhard’s book, as you can gather from the title, is about how to stand when defending yourself. Start reading.”

> _The Importance of a Good Stance to a Successful Defence_

I sighed internally and started reading. It didn’t take long before being mired in the jargon-rich world of Slinkhard’s impenetrable writing. It was a world in which _sine qua non_ jostled shoulders with _quod erat demonstrandum_; and enemies were kind enough to call _en garde_ before launching a vicious _riposte_. It also mattered whether you stood with your leading knee slightly bent or not.

Then came five paragraphs of cricketing metaphors, which I doubted most wixen would have understood. I couldn’t recall any mention of the sport in the years I’d been around magic. It was all Quidditch, with the hankering of the mundane-born for football. No rugby, hockey, polo, tennis, or rounders. And definitely no cricket. So, terms such as “stumps were drawn” “winning the toss” “leg bye” “appeal for LBW” and “out for a duck” were just increasing the problems inherent in reading this book. When he went on to add in “full toss” “maiden overs” and “standing at silly mid-off”, I knew that he’d lost his intended audience.

Who is this guy, and what’s his background? I wondered and went looking for the potted biography that is often in these books.

> Wilbert Slinkhard is a noted magic theorist who has been recognised for his contributions in the fields of alchemy, arcana, defence, and thestral husbandry. He took his degree from the Ipswich Magical Conservatorium and returned later to teach at his alma mater. He resides in the picturesque village of Yoxford with his cats Peace and Pax.

Well, that’s not helpful, although I think cricket is popular in Suffolk. Doesn’t seem to have any practical experience in defence though. It also doesn’t indicate whether he holds any postgraduate qualifications.

“Is there a problem, Mr. Potter?”

“No, Professor, no problem.” Other than this stupid book and your presence in the school, I added mentally.

“Then why aren’t you reading Chapter Five?”

“Oh, I was part way through and suddenly wondered about the author’s background, so I was just reading his biography.”

“And what conclusion have you reached?”

“That he probably played cricket in his younger days.”

“Cricket? Are you trying to be insulting, Mr. Potter?”

I wondered what I had just walked into.

“Uh, no Professor. I’m not sure what is insulting about such a suggestion.”

“Mr. Slinkhard is a fine gentleman and would not lower himself to participating in such vulgar display.”

My face must have shown my non-comprehension, for she clicked her tongue in annoyance.

“Mr. Slinkhard is a man of peace and the rough-and-tumble pitched battles on a muddy field are hardly conducive to such a mind as he possesses. Particularly not dressed in such a way as such players do.”

Rough-and-tumble? What sort of cricket match had she seen? And as for a muddy field—they call cricket off when there’s a light shower. I could see Seamus and Justin quivering desperately trying to hold in their laughter. It was Hermione who came to my rescue, by putting her hand up.

“Yes, Miss Granger,” was snapped in her direction.

“I wonder, Professor, if you’re not describing a different game. Possibly rugby league?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, girl. Rugby league is nothing like cricket. Its very name indicates that it brings people together in camaraderie, while cricket is everyone for themselves.”

I resolved to write to the current Head of the Department for Magical Sports and try to work out what on earth she was on about. In the meantime, I needed to oil the troubled waters.

“Yes, Mr. Potter?” in response to my raised hand.

“Professor, I’m very sorry for casting aspersions upon Mr. Slinkhard’s reputation. I hadn’t realised the significance of making my comment in the way I did. Being raised in the mundane world has obviously caused a serious gap in my understanding of such matters, which I will work to rectify.”

She huffed a bit before setting us back to reading Chapter Five.

A few minutes later I saw in my peripheral vision her head snap up suddenly and look sharply at me. I steadfastly kept my eyes on my book and turned the page to find yet more sports metaphors. This time boxing was mixed with horse racing.

“Mr. Potter!”

I wrenched my mind away from the page before me and looked up vaguely.

“Mr. Potter, kindly respond when you are being addressed.”

“I’m sorry, Professor, I was deep in page 48 reading about horse racing and its relationship to how to stand when facing an enemy,” I said meekly.

“Horse … Where _are_ you getting these fanciful ideas?”

“The words in the textbook, Professor. The esteemed author is using several sporting metaphors to describe the various aspects of stance.”

“I re-read that chapter last night and there were certainly no metaphors in that chapter. Everything was described in simple, factual terms.

“Be that as it may, that is not the reason I interrupted your reading. Mr. Potter, why did you use the term ‘mundane’ and not the correct term ‘muggle’?”

“I’m sorry, Professor, but under the Educational Decree on not discussing matters taught in one class with the professor of another class, I am unable to explain.”

“Detention, Mr. Potter, for insubordination. Come to my office at seven this evening.”

The bell rang for the end of class at that moment and we were dismissed.

~~

History was also twenty minutes shorter, which was a relief as Binns occupied the double period with reciting various goblin genealogies and engaging even more with the blackboard than usual.

Immediately the bell rang, I left the others and headed down to the dungeons and Snape’s office. His marker was showing over the door, so I knew that he was in there and free.

“Enter,” he called in response to my knock. “Mr. Potter? What brings you here?” he drawled in his snidest voice.

I closed the door and he set the do not disturb marker.

“Sir, there are three matters to talk to you about. First, I had another dream last night—despite clearing my mind. It’s the first I’ve had since that night I forgot to do the clearing.”

“Continue.”

I explained what had happened.

“I believe that these dreams of the Dark Lord are a big part of why the Headmaster wants you to learn Occlumency. That part in the dark corridor is particularly concerning.”

I quirked an eyebrow at him and he sighed.

“When I agreed to take on the role of guardian, I wasn’t expecting to have my own mannerisms parroted back to me.”

“After four years of being in the classroom with you, sir, it’s to be expected,” I said with a grin.

“Hmm. What I’m about to tell you is something that the Headmaster doesn’t want you to know at present. However, on the understanding that you won’t be telling him anything about it, and, knowing that you work best when you have the necessary information, I will tell you. That corridor is in the Ministry and leads to the Department of Mysteries. On the other side of that door is a revolving room with twelve doors leading off it. I don’t know the details of where most of those doors lead as I’ve never been in the Department. However, one of those doors leads to the Hall of Prophecies. There is a prophecy about you and the Dark Lord, which only Albus Dumbledore has ever heard the full detail.”

“And, let me guess, old Snakeface wants to get his hands on it.”

“Yes, he knows only the first part, and as a result, believes that his and your destinies are bound together.”

“And he wants me to get it for him, because Riddle and the Ministry isn’t a good combination right now.”

“Hence the strong desire in your dream to go through the door at the end of the corridor.”

“Is it a true prophecy, sir?”

He looked troubled, then said, “I do not know, Mr. Potter. It was certainly declaimed in a way that matches true prophecy, but a good actor can imitate such.”

I thought for a moment, then said, “you know more than you’re letting on, sir.”

He sighed. “Yes. I was spying on the Headmaster the night he met with the seer, but I was caught before I could hear all of the prophecy.”

“And as Tom’s apparently faithful servant, you reported to him what you heard.”

“You are too astute these days for my comfort. Yes, I reported what I heard to the Dark Lord and he decided that the prophecy was about you.”

“_He_ decided?”

He got to his feet and started walking about the room. “As you will have already heard in your Divination classes, true prophecy is not definite. The details can often be interpreted in in different ways. What I heard the Seer say was:

> _THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD APPROACHES.... BORN TO THOSE WHO HAVE THRICE DEFIED HIM, BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES…. AND THE DARK LORD WILL MARK HIM AS HIS EQUAL, BUT HE WILL HAVE POWER THE DARK LORD KNOWS NOT —_

“This was in late June, so the Dark Lord interpreted it to mean that his vanquisher was about to be born. We were ordered to hunt down and discover every magical male baby born in July. In the end there were two. The Longbottom baby and the Potter baby. He suborned trusted people in both houses to report to him so that he could decide which of the two would be a worthy opponent. You showed early on that you were going to be a strong magic user, while Mr. Longbottom was placid and didn’t show his powers.

“The Dark Lord took his time to mature his plans and targeted All Hallows Eve as the most symbolic time to deal with his fated nemesis. The result was unfortunate for both you and him.”

“So, the prophecy was only fulfilled because he made it happen,” I mused. “Even without knowing the full text. Are all dark lords this arrogant?”

“I believe it’s part of the job description.”

I laughed and said, “well, it’s certainly apparent in both of those that I know.”

“Mr. Potter, I feel that I must offer …”

I cut him off quickly. The last thing I wanted in my mind was an apology from Professor Snape.

“Professor, I do not blame you for what happened to me—or to my parents. Both of us were, and are, caught in the web of manipulations created by the two dominant persons of our time in this country.”

I let a period of silence occur before speaking again.

“The second matter that I wanted to discuss with you is one that has just arisen. I have a detention with Professor Umbridge this evening.” And I related what had occurred between her and me in class.

“I can’t get you out of this one without tipping her or Albus off that he is no longer your guardian.”

“I know that, I just wanted to let you know the circumstances leading to it, so that you wouldn’t think I had done something worthy of a detention when you found out about it.”

“Very well. If she causes damage to you during this detention, please come to me immediately on its completion and I will do my best to remedy such.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“And the third?”

“My proposed schedule for my study periods.” And I handed over a piece of parchment.

He quickly read it through.

“I see you have only planned the next few weeks.”

“Yes sir, I thought it best not to plan too far ahead as things may change and I don’t know what topics may arise that I’ll need to understand. Some will be in the curriculum, but there will be others outside of it.”

“Yes, I see you’ve allocated some time on Friday afternoons for ‘random topics.’ This seems acceptable. We can spend a few minutes at the end of Remedial Potions on Saturday discussing how the first two periods went.

“Now, you must get away back to your Chambers before the dinner gong sounds. Remember what I said about coming to see me if you are injured as a result of your detention.”

He flicked his wand, and the office door sprang open.

“Yes sir. Thank you, sir, for explaining that to me. I’ll make sure not to make that error again.”

He gave me an approving nod and I departed.


	49. An Open-Minded Detention

Macaroni cheese with ham chunks was on our menu for dinner. Justin muttered something about carb-loading before a big day. My appetite was gradually increasing with the help of the twice-daily enhancer and I happily knocked off a medium sized helping. I decided to just eat some fruit for dessert as I didn’t know what I was going to face in Umbridge’s office.

When Dumbledore came to the lectern to give the notices, I saw that she had already left, so as soon as he was done, I departed with the words of good luck in my ears.

It was five minutes to seven when I reached the Defence corridor and her office door was ajar, so I raised my hand to knock and declare myself ready.

“Oh, you minx,” came from inside in a wheezed gasp.

I peered through the gap and saw Filch’s back held in an embrace of pink clad arms. I pulled away quickly not wanting to see more. As I did the noise of enthusiastic kissing followed me accompanied by more gasping. I got about twenty metres away back up the corridor then made some noise by dragging my feet. A gasp cut short and there was some urgent whispering and a moment later the door opened fully and Filch came out. He had lip-stick smears on his face and some powder on the lapels of his robes.

I thought briefly of leaving him in that state to be found and mocked by anyone, but then I didn’t really have anything against him, and I was sure he was being used by Umbridge.

“Check yourself in a mirror before you see anyone,” I said quietly to him as we passed. Then I knocked.

“Enter,” came in the sugary tones of our Defence instructress. “Ah, Mr. Potter, nicely on time for your detention.”

She had not had time to repair the ravages of her encounter with the caretaker and looked so similar to the way she had when she arrived at the beginning of class this afternoon that I suspected that Peeves had had nothing to do with her appearance earlier.

“I was just planning tonight’s rounds with Mr. Filch,” she said. Which would have been convincing if it were not for the fact that her robes were askew, her hair mussed, and her lipstick mostly missing, leaving only lip-liner behind.

I chose not to say anything, but just hovered in the doorway.

“Come in, come in. Shut the door behind you and take a seat at that table.”

I complied but noticed some blood stains on the table that hadn’t be cleaned up properly. From living with Dudley, I knew about blood stains on various surfaces—mostly mine.

“Now, you know why you are here.”

“No, Professor.”

Her eyes widened for a moment with a gleam.

“I’ve thought back through this afternoon’s Defence class and cannot see what I did that was wrong.”

She started ticking things off on her fingers. I thought she’d be a finger-ticker—after all Fudge is one and she does like to emulate him.

“You insulted a good man; you caused your peers to doubt the same man’s integrity; you were non-compliant with the classroom work; you refused to answer a simple question; shall I go on Mr. Potter?”

I thought of responding and defending myself from these silly accusations, then remembered that it wouldn’t matter. She was out to get me anyway and, no matter what I said, she was going to institute her punishment. I remained silent with as still a face as I could manage.

“Nothing to say now? No point I suppose without an audience of your admirers.”

I nearly snorted. Admirers? Next she was going to say adoring public.

“I wonder what your adoring public [bingo!] would say if they knew about your real behaviour when not in the public eye.”

I did a mental eye roll, but said nothing as she went off into a monologue about her opinions on the state of youth in Britain today, her importance to the efficient running of the country, and how things would be different once she had the running of the school—under the guidance of the Minister, of course.

Then she looked sharply at me, “are you paying any attention to what I’m saying?”

“Yes, ma’am, absolutely.”

A vague hope that listening to her was going to constitute my detention raised itself, but I doubted it would be the case. Not after the blood quill thing.

A crystal bottle was produced and placed on the table in front of me along with a small silver plate. The bottle contained a liquid about the shade of crème de menthe and there was a slice of raisin cake on the plate. All that was missing was a pair of labels saying, ‘eat me’ and ‘drink me.’

She stepped back and instructed me to take the stopper out of the bottle. On doing so, the scent of a warm kitchen on baking day came to my nostrils.

“Drink it.”

I don’t think so, I thought. If there’s one thing I learnt from the fake Moody last year, it was ‘constant vigilance.’ As I lifted the bottle to my lips, I mentally thanked Flitwick for his timing in teaching us the vanishing spells and decanted the contents across to an empty vial in my school-bag for Draco or Snape to test later. I allowed one drop to hit my tongue and the warmth of mixed spice spread across my mouth. A desire for more filled me briefly, but I blocked it off.

“What did you taste?”

“A warm kitchen,” I said in a slightly dazed voice.

She looked pleased. “Just concentrate on that taste and let it flow into an image.” Her voice dropped in pitch and volume, like she was a hypnotist. Ah, damn, that’s what she was after. That potion must be a mind-opener and she was going to either riffle through my memories or implant some new ones. I kept the dazed look going as best I could, while I pulled my flying images to the front of my mind.

“Now, look at me.”

I did so, then felt a foreign presence in my mind. I grabbed onto it and quickly accelerated into a barrel roll, did three loop-de-loops while gaining height, before plunging into the steepest Wronski feint I could manage. The presence started screaming and tried to pull away, but I held on tightly before suddenly letting go about two metres from the ground.

As I turned to skim the grass with my feet before going up to flow into the third set of Beater evolutions, I felt her leave my mind, then heard someone throw up. The smell of vomit permeated the room. Having cleaned up after Uncle Vernon’s alcohol fuelled benders a few times, I could tell that she’d been on the gin—and a cheap muggle brand at that.

She pulled herself together enough to look across at me, where I was affecting a typical teenage pose of mulish boredom.

“How did you do that?” she gasped.

I glanced down at the pool on the floor and wrinkled my nose.

She started to pick up her wand, then paused. “No, for causing it—and as part of your detention—you will clean it up without using magic.”

I shrugged and got to my feet to head for the door.

“Stop! Where are you going?”

“To get the cleaning equipment, of course. Unless you have some stored in here?” I could feel my tones were beginning to get sarcastic, and I firmly repressed them.

“Of course I don’t.”

“Then, I shall go across the corridor to the cleaning store cupboard.”

“How do you know such a thing exists?”

I shrugged again and went out, leaving the door open. I returned a few moments later with a bucket and mop. Two minutes later the floor was clean, and I was putting the equipment back.

I lounged back into her office and picked up my bag.

“Good night, Professor.”

“Where are you going?”

“To bed, Professor. The curfew bell is about to go, and I do not wish to be caught out and about. Good night.”

I shut the office door behind me and went quickly up to the alcove with the suit of armour. I pulled on the Cloak and was rewarded a moment later by the sight of a pink-robed Defence Professor running up the corridor carrying the silver plate with cake on it in an attempt to find me.

Hmm, the antidote to the potion must be in the cake, so it’s a prohibited substance. I solemnly swore that I was up to no good. Professor Snape was in his office, while Umbridge was headed for Ravenclaw Tower. So, going to Snape with the potion was the better option, rather than Malfoy.

I took a couple of shortcuts between floors and, five minutes later, was outside Snape’s office and knocking on his door.

“Yes, Mr. Potter?” came his laconic voice.

I went in and waited for him to shut the door and put the privacy wards up.

“She tried to potion me with this and then get into my mind. I let her in as far as the flying image, then grabbed her and flew some interesting manoeuvres, finishing with a Wronski feint. I let go at the last moment, which threw her out of my mind, and she threw up. Didn’t help her that she’s been drinking Beefeaters.”

At this last his eyebrow quirked.

“I’ve cleaned up enough vomit at the Dursley’s to be able to discriminate such things.”

“It wasn’t that I was reacting to. Our lovely pureblood High Inquisitor is drinking cheap muggle alcohol?”

“So, it would appear. Oh, she’s also leading Mr. Filch on.”

“Leading Mr. Filch …?”

“Yes, when I arrived at her office, there was a passionate embrace occurring.” And I explained the lipstick and powder.

“Did you drink any of this, at all?”

“I allowed one drop only—so that I would have some idea of what she wanted.”

“And what did you smell and taste?”

“A warm kitchen on baking day for the smell, and mixed spice for taste.”

“It’s a class-A banned substance called mensaperta. Any potion’s master caught making it is liable to having their magic bound permanently. It opens the mind to suggestion and even the best occulmens cannot protect their minds while they have it in their system. The liver does not metabolise mensaperta, rather it is sweated out over the course of the three days following ingestion.”

“Is there an antidote, or a neutraliser?”

“Yes, but how could you guess that?”

“She had a piece of cake on a silver plate ready to give me, and when I left her office after cleaning up her vomit, she chased after me with it. I had already disappeared and so she hasn’t been able to find me.”

I checked the map.

“In fact, she’s currently arguing with the Ravenclaw knocker in the attempt to get it to me.”

“We need to get hold of that cake. The silver plate is important too, as it’s an inert substance for the neutraliser. Anyone eating or touching the neutraliser without having mensaperta in their system would be instantly attacked with a very severe bout of constipation. It stops all bowel peristalsis and removes water molecules from the bowel contents.”

“Dobby!” I called.

He appeared without his usual popping sound and said very quietly, “yes, O great and wonderful Master Harry Potter.” All the while looking very warily at Professor Snape.

“Dobby, I need you to do something very important. Professor Umbridge is carrying a silver plate with a piece of cake on it. The cake has been potioned and we need you to get it from her so that she doesn’t harm herself.”

He nodded solemnly and was about to disapparate when I added, “and you must not touch the cake yourself, but bring it here on a silver plate.”

“Dobby can do this for great and wonderful Master Harry Potter, and for his Snapey dad.”

My eyes widened as Dobby left.

“Say nothing, Potter, if you value your power of speech.”

“Wouldn’t dream of commenting, sir,” I said with a grin. “Do you think it would be a good idea to get someone from DMLE here, sir?”

“Yes, but we don’t have enough evidence, yet.”

“But couldn’t they advise what else we need?”

“Provided we got the right person. If it was someone like Dawlish or Robards, we’d be sunk.”

“So, see if we can get Madam Bones herself, or Kingsley.”

He called his patronus, which was a doe, and gave her some instructions. She nuzzled him briefly, then turned and galloped away through the walls.

“I didn’t know that patroni could be used like that. Remus only taught me how to use mine against dementors.”

“They’re only useful for messages when you can be sure that the other person will be receptive to your patronus. The Dark Lord’s is a dementor, which is particularly unhelpful as a messenger.”

“You mean, he uses a dementor to defend himself against dementors? That’s just, just …” And I shook my head.

“As eloquent as ever, Potter,” snarked Snape.

I saved from trying to make response by Dobby reappearing with a silver plate.

“Here you is, Great and Wonderful Master Harry Potter. Is you wanting Dobby for anything else?”

“Not …”

“Actually, yes,” interrupted Professor Snape. “There is something else. Please let Mr. Potter’s roommates know that he is with me and that they should not worry about him. Also, stay dressed and alert. We may need your further help with sorting out this problem.”

“Yes, Master Snapey. Dobby goes to do this now.”

And he vanished again with barely a sound.

“He usually makes a loud sound when he apparates,” I commented. “Why doesn’t he in here?”

“None of the house elves make loud sounds in here, or in any of my rooms. I find such to be unacceptable for several reasons, and house elves who have in the past have found themselves at the sharp end of my wrath.”

“I can imagine that a loud noise while you’re making some potions would be off-putting.”

“Yes, I’ve ruined more than I care to think about due to such. It is certainly not conducive to assisting the art.”

A mist in the shape of a lynx flowed into the room and spoke in Kingsley’s voice.

“Yes, Severus, I’m on call and available to come through. Open your floo when you get this.”

Professor Snape turned to the fireplace in his office and cast a pair of spells at it. The flames flared up in a shade of orange mixed with blue before turning green. A moment later Kingsley stepped through and the instant he was completely on the hearth, the flames returned to their normal yellowish colour.

“State the second password,” ordered Snape.

“Janus Thickey.”

“Mr. Potter had a detention this evening with the High Inquisitor during which she attempted to use mensaperta on him.” And he showed him the bottle.

Kingsley’s eyes widened for a moment. “Where did she get hold of any of that? I know you’re not brewing it, Severus, and I doubt either of the other Potions Masters in Great Britain are capable of doing so.”

“Oh, Slughorn could, but is extremely unlikely to do so—at least not without some felix felicis on board to protect him from your crowd. The other two are unable to do brew it.”

I stored away the information that there were only four Potions Masters in all of Great Britain. No wonder Snape’s passion for Potions kept leaking through his walled-off persona. It also explained why both Riddle and Dumbledore wanted him around and appeared to be wary of pissing him off too much.

“Why is that the first question you asked?”

“Because, Harry, the source will indicate its purity and its strength.”

“So, how would we go about finding out the source?”

“Well, this is obviously not the container it came in.”

“No, I used a vanishing spell that Professor Flitwick taught us last week to move the contents into this flask that was in my bag.”

“Excellent work. Can you describe the container you vanished it out of?”

“I can do better than that,” and I pulled it out of my pocket.

Shacklebolt gave a grunt of surprise and even Snape’s face showed a flicker of grudging admiration.

“While I was apparently occupied with cleaning up her vomit, I used that as a cover to grab it and stashed it in the bucket. When I took the bucket and mop back to the cleaning cupboard in the corridor, I transferred the bottle to my pocket.”

Snape carefully picked up the bottle with a soft cloth and inspected it. “Waterford crystal, made between five and ten years ago. That pattern was not popular enough to be kept on. Was the seal on the bottle when you were presented it?”

“No, sir. I just had to twist the stopper slightly to get it open.”

“Pity.” He pulled a magnifying glass out of a drawer in his desk and looked at the area around where the stopper sat. “Ah,” came as a satisfied grunt.

“Call that house elf of yours, Potter.”

“Dobby!”

A gentle pop and then, “what can Dobby do for great and wonderful Master Harry Potter?”

“Professor Snape has asked for you. There is something he wants your help with.”

“Potions Master Snapey wants Dobby’s help? What can Dobby do for Potions Master?”

“Dobby, can you see this little blob of wax?”

There was a flapping of ears and nodding of his head. “Yes, Dobby is seeing it.”

“Can you see if you can find more of it in Professor Umbridge’s Chambers?”

His ears turned down and he looked miserable.

“Dobby is very sorry, but Dobby is not allowed in those chambers. The inquisitive one has her own elf and only she can freely go about in there. The sneaking spells in there are too strong for Dobby’s magic to overcome.”

“If I may interrupt for a moment,” came from Kingsley. “What if I gave you authority as a part of an official investigation?”

Dobby looked surprised at that. “You mean Dobby would be a deputy and wear a star?”

“Yes, but a secret star that only you can see, unless I give you permission to show it. Would you be able to access her chambers then?”

“Dobby is thinking so, Senior Auror Shackbotty. But Dobby still has to be very careful about the sneaking spells.”

I got down to Dobby’s height and looked him directly in the eye.

“Dobby, while this is important, it’s not important enough to risk your life for. You are not to punish yourself in any way if you don’t succeed.”

“I is understanding, great and wonderful Master Harry Potter.” He turned to Kingsley. “My star?”

Kingsley solemnly produced a tin star with ‘Deputy’ embossed on it. It was duly pinned to Dobby’s tea-towel and he was formally commissioned as a part of the investigation. Then it faded from view—because it was a secret star—and Dobby departed on his special mission.

“You do have an odd house elf, Harry,” said Kingsley.

“Oh, he’s not really mine. He just sort of adopted me. He’s really Malfoy’s elf.”

“Severus? You’re using a Malfoy elf?”

“Potter means young Draco Malfoy, not Lucius. It’s quite safe.”

“Alright, if you say so. Now, Harry, did you end up with any of the mensaperta in your system?”

“Yes, just one drop.”

“What did it taste like?”

“Mixed spice as used in baking.”

“That’s interesting. Severus, have you run the detection spells?”

“No, they only work once, and we’ll need them to be evidential.”

“True. I can’t deputise you, so I’ll need a second auror. May I bring Tonks in?”

A put-upon sigh, then, “if you must.”

The floo was unsealed and Kingsley called Tonks to come through.

“Wotcher Harry, Severus. What’s happening Kings?”

“Mensaperta.”

“Bloody hell. Who used it?”

“The High Inquisitor attempted to use it on Harry. He managed to pretend to drink it while vanishing it into another bottle, before concealing the original bottle about his person.”

She gave me a look of respect that flustered me.

“However, he did get one drop on board, so we need an evidential. You’re here to be the official witness, while I run the spells.”

She took out a dicta-quill.

> “Testing. Mensaperta evidential test. Performer: Kingsley Shacklebolt; Witness: Nymphadora Tonks; Subject: Harry Potter; Location: Potions Professor’s Office. Time: 22:37 on Tuesday 24th September, 1996. New paragraph.
> 
> “Subject alleges that he was administered the mensaperta potion by a third party, one Dolores Umbridge. Test is to verify this and establish the amount consumed.”

She nodded to Kingsley to continue.

He first set up a set of shields around me, then waved his wand in a similar manner to what I’d seen Madam Pomphrey do. A stream of aqua-coloured light washed over me, then concentrated over my right chest.

Tonks duly reported this to the dicta-quill before Kingsley gave another wand-flick and the light paused before fading out in a rippling pattern.

> “Test completed at 22:39. Test result is positive for the presence of a very small amount of mensaperta in subject’s system. Neutraliser administered immediately on the conclusion of test.”

Then she signed the parchment before passing it to Kingsley to countersign.

While the test was being done, Snape had gone into his Chambers and returned with a small vial with a potion of the same aqua shade as the spell.

“Drink that Potter. It will neutralise the effects of the potion.”

I obeyed and could immediately feel the pressure to consume more go away.

“I hadn’t realised it was still affecting me, but I do feel different now—like a pressure has lifted off me.”

“What do you know about mensaperta, Harry?” asked Kingsley.

“Very little. I’d never heard of it until I came down here with the bottle. I know it’s a class-A banned substance, and that the liver doesn’t metabolise it.”

“Yes, and it’s banned because of its various effects. It was originally developed for use in the context of what’s called BDSM.”

“Oh,” I said quietly.

“But it worked too well and allowed the dominant almost complete mind control over the submissive.”

“So, it’s more effective than the Imperius charm?”

“Yes.”

“Has anyone claimed they were under the power of mensaperta when committing a crime?”

“The foolish occasionally do, but that’s because they don’t understand that the ways of testing for it cannot be faked.”

“But after the neutraliser is given?”

“There are still ways of checking for it—up to four months afterwards.”

“Okay. Could someone who wants to achieve world domination use it?”

“If you mean he-who-must-not-be-named, I’ll turn to Severus for an explanation of why it isn’t going to be used.”

“Simply put, Potter, the Dark Lord is not a virgin and therefore he fears mensaperta.”

“I’m sorry, but I really don’t want to think about Tom Riddle’s sex life.”

“And we’re not asking you to. It’s just that it only works the way Auror Shacklebolt describes on people who willingly gave up their virginity. The innocent and the pure are different and are able to turn the force of suggestion back on to the giver.”

“And Snakeface would not be keen on having the various victims of his abuses able to get back at him. And Grindelwald the same, I assume.”

“Grindelwald is supposed to have tried it with Credence Barebone—not realising that the young man was one of nature’s true innocents—and it backfired on him. It weakened him and allowed the 1929 Stock Market crash to happen.”

“He-who-shall-remain-unnamed was born during the aftermath of these events and studied them closely to ensure that he did not make the same mistakes.”

“Hmm, and the other?”

“The other thinks himself above all such things and therefore would not use it on principle. He believes himself able to persuade and manipulate without such aids.”

While we had been talking, Professor Snape had been working on the piece of cake.

“As suspected, this cake has been heavily laced with the neutraliser. Possibly to the point of it changing the flavour enough to render it well nigh inedible to the normal human palate.”

“Can you give me that in a written formal opinion, as a Potions Master?”

“Of course.”

“Kings,” chimed in Tonks, “you know that means we’ll have to haul in her house elf as a witness?”

“Be prepared for shocking pink,” I quipped.

When the others looked at me in enquiry, I explained that Limon was dressed in a hot pink uniform when I saw her.

A soft pop had us looking up sharply to see Dobby arrive with his arms full.

“Senior Auror Shackbotty, Deputy Dobby is reporting. Dobby has finded seventeen unopened bottles of nasty potion and six empty bottles. All have that wax on them that Potions Master Snapey showed to Dobby.”

“Excellent work, Dobby. You are worthy of that star,” said Kingsley.

Dobby looked delighted with the praise and hastened to put the bottles on Snape’s desk.

“Dobby has also acquired the wax from the rubbish bin that the inquisitive witch threw it in to. Dobby is thinking that this wax was on great and wonderful Master Harry Potter’s bottle.”

Kingsley praised him again and commented that he had thought very well. At that Dobby rushed across the room to me and buried his face in my robes from which I could hear muffled squeaks of joy and tears at being so honoured by such a great wizard.

Tonks stared and I explained that house elves were not allowed to make loud noises in Professor Snape’s rooms and that Dobby was doing his best to comply.

When he’d settled, I got down beside him and asked him if he’d had any trouble.

“Not really, Master Harry Potter.”

I gave him one of Petunia’s trademark unimpressed looks. “You’re hiding something from me, Dobby. You know that’s not a good thing to do.”

“Dobby got interrupted by Limon. Limon did not want Dobby in her mistressesses rooms and was going to snitch on Dobby to the very inquisitive one. Dobby had to promise Limon a whole night of hot passion to keep her being silent.” He gave a moue of disgust with his lips. “Even though Limon is not Dobby’s type, Dobby will keep his promise.”

And he heaved a big sigh.

Tonks gave a bark of laughter. “And who would you prefer, Dobby?”

He looked a little sheepish for a moment, then said in a confidential tone, “Dobby is liking the looks of Kōwhai, who came with the new Professor in the weekend.”

I mentally groaned. I really didn’t want to know about all these people’s sex lives, but first Filch, then Grindelwald, Riddle and now Dobby.

“As I expected, the wax seals indicate that Diarmuid is involved somehow in the supply chain. From the sample acquired by Mr. Potter, the potion is pure and not tainted with anything. However, I’m unable to tell the source of the _Drypetes_ leaves. It’s a true pantropical genus and most of the species within it can be used to make the base for mensaperta. I’m not aware of any being grown in glasshouses in these islands, but our Herbology colleagues will have a better idea. However, I am strongly of the opinion that it is being made well away from here and smuggled in.”

“Diarmuid is Severus’ equivalent at the Limerick School of Magical Beings,” explained Kingsley to me.

I stifled a yawn.

“I think it’s well past time you were in bed, Mr. Potter. You’d better head off.”

I checked the map. “Ah sir, Professor Umbridge is still hanging around the passageway leading to Ravenclaw Tower.”

“Then you may go to the Common Room directly. You know how to use the floo, do you not?”

“Yes sir, but don’t I need to pass through the door with the knocker to be recorded?”

“No, you just need to pass through the Common Room. There are several entrances to it, and requiring everyone to go through the main door defeats the purpose.”

“In that case … Dobby, would you please take me up to the Ravenclaw Common Room? And then you will be released for the night. Unless any of you need him for anything else?”

“No, we don’t need him tonight, but we may need his help in the future. And so, you keep your star secret, Deputy.”

“Ay ay sir.”

A moment later I was standing in the Common Room in front of the dying embers of the fire.

“Now go to your paramour, Dobby.” He pulled a face. “The sooner you get it done, the sooner it will be over.”

“But, Master Harry Potter, what if she wants more?”

“Then you negotiate. This is a business proposition, not love.” Then I thought, oh dear, I’m teaching Dobby how to prostitute. I need to remember to tell Malfoy in the morning.

And with that I stumbled to our room and my bed. I just remembered to make sure I was flying as I fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 49 Chapters posted over the past year, and we still haven't finished the first month of school. When I started writing this story I thought I would be done by now. I wasn't expecting quite so many subplots to turn up and demand attention.


	50. The Plot Wheels Turn Quietly

**Wednesday 25 September:**

Justin woke me next morning when he got back from his run.

“Thought it best to let you sleep a bit longer today as you got back so late.”

“While I feel like I could have run today, you’re probably right.”

The other two came across and Neville asked what had happened in my detention.

“She tried to potion me with something called mensaperta.”

Draco, of course, was the one to react to that. “She what?! She’s going down for that, and I’ll put her there myself.”

“I think Snape and the aurors will get there before you,” I replied. “Let me give you a brief summary of the evening while we do our teeth and I take a pee. We’re in the gym later this morning, so freshening charms will do just this once, eh?”

They agreed and so the four of us piled into the bathroom and made our various ablutions while I gave them a run-down.

“I was going to bring the potion here to you, Malfoy, to analyse, but she was hanging around the corridor and I wouldn’t have got past her and the knocker without being spotted, so I went straight down to Professor Snape’s office instead.”

“Probably best you did so. If we’d been caught with mensaperta in here, we’d have been expelled. As it is, Uncle Severus is going to be on thin ice.”

“Ah, that’s where things got interesting. We called in Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt.”

“Shacklebolt? He’s known to be incorruptible.”

“Maybe. However, …” and I went on to explain how we’d got Dobby involved in helping us and how they’d tested me for it in my system.

“What did it taste like to you?” asked Malfoy.

“Mixed spice used for baking. Why does everyone ask me that?”

“It tastes and smells differently for everyone. I’m not sure of the meanings of the tastes, but I think it’s something to do with your life-aspirations.”

“That makes sense,” said Neville. “Harry just wants to have an ordinary life.”

“And the fact that the potion centred itself in your right chest is telling also. There are three main places it centres, the chest, the genitals, or the face. There are sexual connotations to the genitals and face, while the chest is free of those. From memory, the upper right chest behind the pectoral muscle shows your desire to protect.”

By then we were ready for the day, so turned the conversation to other things as we left our room and joined the general flow of people on their way to breakfast.

~~

I won’t weary your minds with detailing my study period. Suffice it to say that I got through a couple of assignments and made a good start on a third. The new timetable had reduced the time by 20 minutes, and we had our second Wizarding Studies lesson to go to before we could get to the gym.

Accordingly, Neville and I made our way from the library and joined the rest of our year before the door with the ornately carved frame. At the right time, the door slid open and we entered in single file. The desks in the classroom had been pushed to one side and the chairs were set up in a large circle with gaps at the cardinal directions.

“Please take seats, but do not sit with more than one person from your house.”

Neville and I ended up sitting in the south-west group with Ernie and Hermione on either side of us. Beyond Hermione was Ron, and the other side of Ernie was Crabbe. So that was two Slytherins, two Hufflepuffs and two Ravenclaws, but four of us were ex-Gryffindors.

“Alright then, the rules of engagement. Anyone wishing to add to the general discussion must be standing and have been acknowledged by the group as the speaker. No one who is seated may speak substantively, however a brief interjection may be allowed. I would also remind you of the decisions you made as a class on Monday on the types of argument allowed.

“Now, the topic is how the Polynesian concept of mana relates to magic users. Who is going to start us off?”

I could feel Hermione bubbling with excitement as her hand went up. Fortunately, Te Awhiorangi called on Lisa Turpin first. I knew she would model the correct behaviour.

“Ariki, fellow classmates, thank you for the opportunity to open this discussion. I would like to first of all acknowledge this place in which live, for it is here in this place of strength that we learn to channel the gift of magic. In the halls, classrooms and sleeping chambers of this castle many hundreds of magic users have learnt, taught, and practiced the arts that we have come here to discover for ourselves. Hogwarts herself holds the mana of the four Founders, for I cannot find record of their magical affinity producing anyone to following in their magical lineage.

“The strength of that mana has waxed and waned over the years since the Founders left us, partly due to that held by the various Headmasters and Headmistresses, but also due to the honour in which the general magical public held the notion of magical education.

“At present the toll of two Wizarding Wars, various Dark Lords, a series of inept Ministers of Magic, and a weakened Wizengamot, has meant that a magical education is not held in high regard—particularly when those being educated must leave their family homes for long periods of time. As a consequence, the mana of Hogwarts at the present time is in the lower part of its range.”

A smattering of applause greeted her as she sat. There were looks of puzzlement on some faces, I presumed over her summation of the current status of the magical world in Great Britain.

“I don’t disagree with Ms. Turpin’s general argument,” said Terry Boot, who had been called on to speak next. “Some of her specifics are debatable, but I believe that to follow those would take us away from our topic. I would like to reflect briefly on the role of mana in Grindelwald’s rise to power.”

He took us through the general outline of how Grindelwald acquired followers and also how he kept them. I won’t go over it in detail as the story is well known from the book called _The Crimes of Grindelwald_, written by Percival Graves.

Blaise was next and xe talked about the personal aspect of discovering magical abilities. Gordon Pritchard followed on from there from a mundane-born perspective of only being able to name the abilities once he’d had a visit from Professor Sinistra.

Adeyemi and Susan both covered aspects of recognising and honouring family members and their role in shaping and moulding us.

Malfoy spoke about different kinds of mistakes and errors. Some define us, while some don’t matter. The challenge is working out which ones fall into which group—and often we don’t work that out until much later.

Titus Sedares picked up on Malfoy’s theme, but related it to the positive achievements in our lives and used me and Quidditch as an example. I was invited to respond, which I did by acknowledging Titus’ recognition that Quidditch didn’t define me.

Neville was next and talked about how the fact that Titus used me as an example indicated that I held some mana in the eyes of those who follow Quidditch, then went on to say, “and the fact that we all accepted Mr. Sedares’ assessment of Mr. Potter without question, demonstrates that the latter holds mana in other aspects of his life as well.”

General murmurs of agreement followed—which caused me to duck my head in embarrassment. Hermione was then called on and there was a class-wide intake of breath as we waited for her familiar voice to explain everything about mana that she’d found in the library. But, just as she was launching on her exposition, the bell for end of class rang.

~~

When we came out into the corridor to head off, we found the First-Year students arriving. It must have been their first class with Te Awhiorangi, for they were looking curiously at the carvings and a couple of the boys were giggling at the carved figure at the peak, with its erect penis.

“Guess he won’t be joining us in the gym today, then,” commented Justin.

We shrugged and made our way there quickly. Stagnant was in a no-nonsense mood, and forty minutes later we were out of the showers and towelling off in preparation to go to lunch followed by Potions.

Hedwig was waiting for me with a letter when we got to the Great Hall. I fished a couple of owl treats out of my pocket and we had a quiet moment together before she flew off again.

“I swear that your owl thinks you are her familiar rather than the other way round,” said Malfoy.

I laughed agreement and glanced at the envelope. It was in Sirius’ handwriting, so I put it aside for later. I didn’t need to be thinking about him while I was in Snape’s classroom.

Neville joined Malfoy on the front bench, while Justin and I worked on the bench behind them. We were brewing Blood Replenishing potions by way of revision. This time no tweaks were permitted, and we had to keep our focus throughout the process, as there’s a couple of points where a faulty timer can result in a potion that’s too weak.

As we headed back to our room afterwards, I had a sudden thought.

“Malfoy, you know how Patil and Thatcher ended up with a very weak potion and it had to be chucked out?”

He nodded.

“Why did it have to be?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, couldn’t it have been used for other creatures? I mean those with generally lower body mass, like house elves or pixies.”

He stopped short and got an ‘I’m thinking really hard’ look on his face.

“I don’t know.” And he turned as if to go back to the classroom and ask Snape.

We stopped him, pointing out that it wasn’t an emergency, and that Snape wouldn’t want to be disturbed while teaching the Third-Year students.

~~

We got back to our room, took turns using the bathroom, then settled in at our desks.

“Right, Neville, your turn to lead the tutorial,” said Justin. “What have you got for us?”

“Harvesting techniques?”

“Okay, lead on.”

And he took us through a range of about twenty different techniques to harvest parts of plants ranging from roots to leaf tips. He also covered when to cut above a node and when below, then moved on to the techniques used in pollarding and coppicing.

At the end Malfoy and I looked at each other with a grin. “Are you going to say it, or am I?” he asked.

“Go for it,” I offered.

“Longbottom, I do hope that teaching is somewhere in your life-plan.”

Neville looked surprised but Justin nodded. “I have to agree with them, Neville. Your passion shows through, but you never once let it take you beyond our understanding. You carried us along with you and your explanations were clear and helpful.”

I hummed agreement. “I learnt far more this afternoon from your explanations and diagrams than I would have got from reading any number of textbooks.”

Neville stammered a bit but gave in to our serious looks.

We had half-an-hour left until dinner, so we each turned to doing our own thing. Malfoy and Justin were working on assignments and Neville was reading his astronomy text. I remembered that I hadn’t yet read Sirius’ letter and fished it out.

> “Dear Harry,
> 
> “Moony went away yesterday on one of those secret missions. I miss him already. The old house seems awfully quiet with just Kreacher and me rattling around in it. I’m almost tempted sometimes to go and have a conversation with my mother’s portrait.
> 
> “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said to me the other day at Gringotts. I had no idea that the wills had never been read, so I thought that something had changed after Lily told me. I do want to be a part of your life, Pup. We’ve missed out on so much by not being able to do that.
> 
> “Did you hear about the Puddlemere vs Ballycastle game on Sunday? It only lasted ten minutes after the snitch flew straight into Jock Merridew’s hand when he was looking the other way. Huge fuss in the press about it as it was Merridew’s last professional game, and everyone was hoping for an impressive display of flying.
> 
> “How’s things going with living with your hated rival? If you need some more hexes, there’s a few that James and I used to use on Snape that I’d be happy to teach you.
> 
> “Your ever-loving,
> 
> “Snuffles”

I heaved a sigh, pulled out some green ink and scrawled “Not good enough, Sirius” across it. Then pondered how best to send it back. I didn’t want Hedwig to go bother going all that way just for him. I thought about borrowing Pigwidgeon from Ron, but decided not to. Then I remembered the two-way mirrors and wondered if it was possible to activate them to send written messages without using the voice part. I dug in my trunk and found the mirror wrapped in an old sweatshirt of Dudley’s.

I saw that I had missed quite a few calls—if the flashing 37 in the top right corner was anything to go by. I ignored that and studied the runes down the left-hand side, then I pulled a runes dictionary off the shelf above my desk and looked up the ones I didn’t recognise. There was one bind-rune that meant “sending”, so I put the letter face down on the mirror and touched the rune followed by the connection rune. There was a flash of light around the edges of the parchment, then the mirror glowed for a moment before going dark again.

I wrapped it back up in Dudley’s sweatshirt and put it back in my trunk. I had something else that I had to ask Snape about on Saturday when I saw him before going into Hogsmeade.

~~

I slipped a note to Dennis Creevey to pass to the Weasley twins as we came through the Main Foyer before dinner and three quarters of an hour later I joined them in a disused classroom on the fifth floor of the Astronomy Tower.

“We sounded out Dad on the quiet …”

“… and he reckons that …”

“… they could take on your dipso house elf.”

“How do we go about it?”

“Do you reckon Ginny could get her here for the Quidditch match next weekend?” I asked.

“Are you mad?”

“She doesn’t know that …”

“Ginny’s ever even ridden a broom, …”

“… let alone going to fly in a match.”

“And she won’t bother …”

“… to come for us.”

“Alright, I’ll owl her,” I said. “I’ll get her here for something else and plot something with Dobby.”

“Who’s Dobby?”

“Just a moment. Dobby!”

“Great and wonderful Master Harry has need of Dobby?”

“Dobby, do you know who these two are?”

He squeaked in astonishment. “Of course, Dobby be knowing the awesomeness of the twin powers of mayhem and merriment. They is being a legend in the kitchen.”

“Did that most wise …”

“… and astute …”

“… fine example …”

“… of all that best …”

“… in house elfdom, …”

“… refer to meek …”

“… mild …”

“… modest …”

“… and misunderstood us …”

“… (and humble, don’t forget humble) …”

“… as awesome, powerful, …”

“… and legendary?”

“You know, Gred, I do believe he did.”

“Harry, you do have some really delightful friends.”

Then they astonished Dobby by bowing deeply to him. He pulled on my sleeve to get my attention and beckoned me down so he could say something.

“Is they sane, Master Harry Potter?”

“Ah, that is a question …”

“… that we have long pondered.”

“What do you think, Forge? What is our current status?”

“That’s a good question, demonstrates clear thinking …”

“… unfortunately, the answer is not clear.”

“Next?”

Dobby let out a delighted giggle, then turned to me and asked, “what was you wanting Dobby for, Great and Wonderful Master Harry Potter?”

“We have the beginnings of a plan to help Winky. We think Mr. and Mrs. Weasley would take her on and make her a family elf again.”

“Ooo, that do be wonderful.”

“We need your help and advice.”

His chest puffed out importantly. “You is needing Dobby’s advice? Not Anaï’s, not even Carver’s?”

“Who is Carver?”

“Carver is the head house elf at Hogwarts. He is bonded to the castle. No member of any elf-kind can be here without his knowing and permission.”

“Okay. However, it is your advice that we need, because you are an expert on free house elves.”

“Master Harry Potter is calling Dobby an expert?”

“Yes. Now, are House Elves allowed to visit Hogsmeade?”

“Yes, we is allowed, but we don’t have much reason to go, unless we is doing Master’s business.”

“Would you be able to bring Winky there—if I got Mrs. Weasley to meet me there?”

“Dobby is thinking he probably could. But Winky would not be liking it and might be going back without stopping.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Do you know the binding words for a free elf to join a new House?”

He threw out his chest with pride. “Yes, Master Harry, Dobby is knowing those words. And it is a good thing that you is asking Dobby, as you is needing two witnessesses. One wizarding-kind,” and he pointed at me, “and one elf-kind,” and he pointed at himself. “They cannot be witnessesses because they is of the receiving House.”

“Alright, I’ll write to Mrs. Weasley tonight and will let you all know the outcome. Now, I must get up to class and let you carry on with your evenings.”


	51. Confused Counting and a Meshing of Magic

I arrived on the Astronomy Tower with a couple of minutes to spare. The amendment to the Educational Decree about being outside after dark had been modified to allow for it under the direct supervision of a member of the teaching faculty. Still meant that Filch couldn’t supervise a detention out on the grounds, which was a relief to some of the students.

Malfoy was fizzing about something and, when I asked what was wrong, he denied anything was wrong.

“I asked Professor Snape your question about weak blood potions. He hadn’t thought of it either and he’s going to investigate the possibility.”

“Cool,” was all I had time to say before Professor Sinistra called us to order.

“Tonight, our focus is on observing and calculating meridians. We did a little of this last year, so you should have some idea of the process. Start with Alpha Ursa Major. I’ll move around and assist you as you work.”

An hour and a half later I had a sheet filled with calculations that distributed the stars of Ursa Major broadly across the whole firmament. I was relieved to find that the others weren’t doing any better.

“I must have a negative sign in the wrong place somewhere,” muttered Justin. “I’ve somehow got Epsilon directly over Tasmania.”

I even heard Hermione sigh and say, “but that doesn’t make sense. I’ve got the Plough running through the middle of Orion.”

Parkinson quacked laughingly, “that would explain why Orion’s a quean. Who’s next to be ploughed? Perseus, Cygnus, or Hercules?” Blaise said something quietly to her and she blushed and rapidly apologised.

“Well done, Blaise,” muttered Malfoy. “Xyr’s the only one who can sort her out when she gets into that mocking mood,” he explained.

“Good thing she didn’t move on to Draco or Leo—given both are present here in the class,” said Neville.

“She wouldn’t go that far. Remember she wants a marriage contract with me, and if word got back to my parents that she thinks I’m bent, then there’s no chance of that happening.”

“Alright, everyone,” called Professor Sinistra. “It’s time to pack up. Your task for this week is working out where your calculations went wrong. You will hand in next week a fair copy of your corrected calculations for the seven stars of the Plough asterism within Ursa Major.”

We all packed up quickly and headed in a large group down the stairs from the tower. There was something of a jam as we came out the first door into the area in front of the classroom. A group of Seventh Year students were over to one side, waiting for us to clear so that they could go up for their lesson. They were signalling to us to keep quiet and just keep walking. We soon found out why. Umbridge was over at the top of the next flight of stairs counting us as we went past.

Justin whispered, “let’s put her off. Discuss the assignment as we walk by and throw random numbers around.”

We quietly passed the word and Susan started with, “but how did you get twenty-seven, Hannah? I’m sure that Merak should be at forty-three.”

“Nah,” cut in Seamus, “sixteen, surely.”

“But that’s what I got for Mizar,” threw in Ron. “It’s got to be twelve.”

“No,” said Greengrass. “Twenty-seven.”

Draco sighed, “Daphne, it can’t be twenty-seven, it’s much higher than that. Try fifty-one.”

“Seriously? It was thirty-three,” I threw in.

Hermione hadn’t been clued in and so it was perfect when she said, “I don’t know how you got any of those numbers. They’re supposed to be fifteen, thirty-one, six, nineteen, eighty, and forty-two.”

Umbridge had a look of frustration on her face at that point, and the evening was capped off nicely by Blaise quietly singing a chorus of _Seventy-six Trombones_ as xe brought up the rear.

This was possibly the most united our year had ever been so far at Hogwarts and we parted on the Fifth Floor with friendly smiles.

~~

**Thursday 26 September**

During breakfast an imperious eagle owl swooped in with post for Malfoy.

“Hello Hermes, is everything alright?”

He petted the owl, who leaned into him for a brief moment before screeing as if to say to us, “you saw nothing.”

Malfoy untied a large envelope from the jesses, gave him a couple of owl treats and let him go. However, instead of flying straight out of the windows again, like the other owls, he flew up into the rafters over the head table.

“That’s unusual,” commented Malfoy. “He’s never asked for reassurance before. Something’s wrong.”

“He hasn’t left either,” commented Justin.

“Oh, that’s normal—if a response is expected.”

He broke the wax seal on the back of the envelope and pulled out a piece of crisp parchment that crackled as he unfolded it.

After skimming through its contents quickly he sighed, “Hermes is waiting to take back a response to this. The problem is that I don’t have one—or at least not one my father would appreciate, or even accept. Oh, there’s a postscript.”

He reached back into the envelope and pulled out another.

“Father has enclosed a letter from my mother, to save sending a second owl.”

He opened the second envelope and pulled out a piece of expensive looking cream parchment. As he unfolded it another, smaller, envelope fell to the table. He picked it up, glanced at the front, and passed it over to me.

The initials H.J.P. were inscribed on the front. I lifted the flap and took out the contents—a photograph of a younger Draco holding Hermes, both of them looking proudly at the camera. As I watched, Hermes spread his wings wide as if to protect the boy, while the young Draco reached up a reassuring hand and petted the eagle owl. I turned the photograph over and found written in exquisite penmanship, “Draco and his new owl.” There was a also a smudge over to one side.

“Malfoy?” I asked. “Why doesn’t Hermes stay here? I mean, he’s your owl.”

A brief look of sadness flickered across his face before being smoothed away.

“My father asked to borrow him last year and, of course, I let him.”

“Your mother wants you to keep him here. And he needs your magic to sustain him, doesn’t he?”

I showed him the photograph that Mrs. Malfoy had sent, then I wondered about the smudge. Everything I knew so far about Narcissa Malfoy meant that allowing something with a smudge come to me didn’t match. Using the magnifying function on my glasses, I expanded my view of the smudge. It resolved into words.

> “Dear Harry, My apologies for the degree of subterfuge needed to correspond with you. Our houseguest is very suspicious, and as a result I need to be careful. I have researched the issue of your retainers, and believe that I have found some answers as to how they came to be bonded to your family. I will discuss those with you when I visit for the Quidditch match next Saturday. If they are the family that my researches have indicated, then they will be more than happy to prevent you from ever returning to your mother’s muggle relatives. It is not safe for me to write more in this way. Keep well, Narcissa (Black) Malfoy.”

“Harry, Harry,” called Neville.

I blinked for a moment as my glasses reset to their normal function.

“What?”

“You were off in a brown study there for a while. Come on, we need to get going, if we’re going to be on time for Transfiguration.”

I supposed that it probably did look like I was staring at nothing, given I’d been looking at a smudge on the back of a photograph.

I tucked it away in an inner pocket of my robes, grabbed my bag and followed the others out of the Great Hall.

~~

Transfiguration was a revision tutorial on Gamp’s Law and the five exceptions, which I’m sure you (dear reader) would find interesting—but I can’t be bothered to rehearse it all again. Like most students, I studied it all up for my exams then promptly forgot it when I went out into the real world. In the real world, doing the magic is more important than why it works (or doesn’t).

So, moving right along to Spell Creation class. As Flitwick promised we were back in the long room we’d been in on Monday. Te Awhiorangi joined us. He was wearing a muscle top and a pair of shorts in what I had come to think of as our shade of blue. As usual, he was bare-footed.

“Professor Te Awhiorangi holds a mastery in Spell Creation and so he is going to share the teaching of this class with me,” squeaked Flitwick.

“Filius and I do magic differently to each other, and so in the interests of giving you different perspectives, we’ll sometimes teach separately and other times together. Today, I’m just going to observe so as to gain an idea of where you’re at.”

We were put to the ten metre marks to begin with and quickly meshed our magic to conjure a pair of sandy-coloured short-haired dogs.

Te Awhiorangi laughed and said, “nice try, but dingos are from Australia rather than New Zealand.”

Justin shrugged and we vanished them again. Flitwick got us to move to being three marks apart.

“Now, I’m going to give Mr. Malfoy a piece of parchment with a challenge on it. Without talking, see what you can do to meet it.”

Malfoy was standing on the first mark and facing the wall at the end of the room, Neville was next and facing a window, then Justin who was facing the other way, and I was on the end facing down the long part of the room. I felt Justin’s magic reach out for mine, and I slotted into the niche that was the exact shape of my magic. While I was doing that, I sensed Neville’s moving into place, and then Draco’s. We’d never done this before. Up until now we’d used strands of magic.

I started to close my eyes, but heard Justin say ‘no’ in my head.

I felt a strong urge to create a snake so, calling ‘Serpentsortia’ in my head, I made one out of the patterns of light that spilled into the room from the windows on either side. The snake acknowledged me, then slid out of my view behind me.

A few moments later Professor Flitwick called, “Bravo. Well done.”

Turning, careful not to unmesh, I saw that we had created a set of Hogwarts’ mascots, that were now romping together in the middle of the space between Neville and Justin.

“Now, let’s see,” he called musingly. A moment later the howls of a pack of timber wolves sounded from behind me. Turning quickly, I saw about ten of them running down the long room towards us.

My wand came up and I sent a rapid series of stunners towards them, causing a couple to stumble, before a burst of light arced over my head from behind and created a wall which the wolves were unable to get through. They morphed into warriors who started firing spells into the wall of light.

I had a flashback to my last dream in the graveyard and was close to breaking down when I heard, “occlude, Potter, damn you, occlude.”

My broom was always with me in my mind and I ran the first evolution at double speed. In the meantime, I felt Justin’s magic wrap around me without losing the others in the mesh. I sucked in a deep breath, then was steady once again.

‘Let’s do this,’ I thought, and we extended the wall of light so that it surrounded us, then focused on the warriors. Another set of mascots were conjured, this time behind the warriors. The four animals fell upon the warriors. As each fell, it morphed back into a wolf and lay with its throat bared. Once they had all fallen, they were allowed to retreat, and they vanished into the shadows in the distance.

We let the wall of light dissipate followed by the two sets of mascots, then gently unmeshed our magic. After that we gathered together in the middle of the space we’d been using to have a quiet debrief with just the four of us. It turned out that Malfoy had done the badgers, Neville the ravens and Justin the gryphons.

“Who was it who reminded me to occlude? I nearly lost it just then because it was like my nightmares.”

They looked at each other mystified. “It wasn’t any of us, Harry,” said Neville.

“Oh, that’s odd. I distinctly heard someone tell me to occlude.”

We turned to the two professors to find out, but found that they weren’t even looking at us. They were deep in conversation over near the door.

“Ah, Professor,” called Malfoy, “did that meet your challenge?”

The two of them looked over at us. Then, Flitwick called back, “no.”

Well, that rocked us. And it must have shown on our faces because he came rushing across with Te Awhiorangi just behind.

“I didn’t mean that in a negative way. No, you didn’t meet the challenge, you exceeded it by far more than I thought you capable at this point. Despite what I have seen of your abilities over the past few weeks, I thought that this would be far more of a challenge than you’ve dealt with so far.”

“It was my twist that turned the wolves into warriors,” added Te Awhiorangi. “And I must say that I am impressed. Severus was right to let me know about you. Your affinity is stronger than any grouping around the Silent One has been for many centuries. And I wonder, I wonder if you realise who you all actually are.”

Just then the door flew open and Professors Snape, McGonagall and Madam Hooch came racing into the room.

Ignoring everyone else, they came over to me and checked me over.

“What’s happening here?” came another voice from the door—Umbridge.

“Yes, I’d like to know the answer to that also,” came in Dumbledore’s voice from behind her.

As one, the four of us turned and walked up the room away from the door. My guardians came with us and left Professors Flitwick and Te Awhiorangi to explain to the High Inquisitor and the Headmaster.

“Can one of you please explain what happened in here about seven minutes ago?” asked Madam Hooch.

Draco gave a quick summary, but didn’t mention our magical affinity.

I then chipped in and explained to the two women that I still had nightmares from Tom Riddle’s return in the graveyard, and that the way the warriors had been attacking the wall was very similar.

“I came close to panicking and nearly broke down, then I heard a voice in my head telling me to occlude.”

“That would have been me, Mr. Potter. Your panic was leaking out across the whole castle and everyone who has any abilities in legilimency picked it up. Fortunately, those in the student body were protected by Hogwarts’ wards from getting any details and as soon as you occluded the panic down were able to return to whatever they were doing. However, all staff with links to you were given location details and those who could got here as soon as we were able to.”

“Oh,” I said in a small voice. “Why doesn’t it happen at other times when I panic? Like in my nightmares?”

“You weren’t combining your magic. Basically, the magic of your classmates amplified yours to the point that you were projecting a lot further than you knew.”

“Severus,” said Madam Hooch. “We need to sort out occlumency lessons for Harry. He’s obviously in urgent need of them.”

“We’ve already started, Rolanda, at the Headmaster’s request. Saturday mornings with me is not remedial potions, despite what the High Inquisitor has been led to believe.”

Neville piped up, “Harry’s also sharing what he learns with us, so that we can hone our skills and help him as well.”

“But why aren’t you … Silly question. Professor Snape teaching Neville Longbottom remedial potions is too far beyond the realms of likelihood to be believed.”

“My boy?” came as an interruption as the Headmaster advanced up the room towards us.

“Quick, fake a wall of light,” said Justin.

We put one up and Dumbledore came to a halt in front of it.

“Sorry sir!” called Justin. “We’ve been working on developing a new kind of shield in this class and, in answer to a question, we were demonstrating how it works.”

“It’s very interesting, Mr. Finch-Fletchley, very interesting. I didn’t hear the incantation, what are you using?”

“Muro de luz, sir.”

“Latin and Spanish combined, eh? Interesting concept. Are you alright, Harry, my boy?”

‘I wish he wouldn’t call me that,’ I thought, but said out loud, “oh yes, sir. It was just a moment of panic.”

“Very well then. We’d better leave you to complete today’s lesson.” And he swept off and left the room.

“That wall was no fake,” said Professor McGonagall. “Just how strong are you boys?”

Somehow I didn’t mind when she called us boys.

“Separately, they’re each in Tier Five. Together, stronger than any of us are likely to imagine,” came in Te Awhiorangi’s bass tones. “The task before us is to help them shape that strength that it might be used in wisdom, understanding and discretion, even as they grow in stature.”

“Tier Five? I’m only in Three,” said Madam Hooch. “How can I assist them?”

“By sharing your life experience,” said Draco. “You used to fly professionally and had to deal with all that that entails. Lawyers, non-congenial colleagues, a fickle public, bullying journalists, and a manager who didn’t care about you as a person. It’s not about how magically strong you are, but about your strength of character.”

“Well said, Mr. Malfoy,” said Professor Flitwick. “Now the bell is going to go shortly and there are few matters that I need to cover off with you before I go into my next class.”

My guardians left us at that point and Te Awhiorangi and Flitwick conjured some chairs. Once we were seated, he began, “that was the first time you have done a full magical mesh, I believe. We must ask you not to do so without either of us with you, and preferably both of us.”

“At the moment, we’re the only two in the school who know enough and have the ability to assist you if something should go wrong,” added Te Awhiorangi. “Yes, Tāne Malfoy, I’m fully aware of your link to Lady Hogwarts, but she is unable to undo some of the magic you could create. Her magic comes from a group of four such as you are, but because the hormonal balance in the magic was different, she cannot deal with everything that you can do. She can contain it, but not negate it.”

“This restriction is only for the next couple of months, while we spend time with you helping you develop and understand your links.”

Te Awhiorangi had one parting shot. “There’s one other thing to cover. I’ve already heard about the accidental performing of an illusionary transfiguration when two of you bumped shoulders at the wrong moment. You must continue to be circumspect about touching when performing magic, but also the four of you must avoid all forms of sexual intimacy until your combined magic has settled further. That includes kissing,” and he looked directly at Neville and Justin, who blushed. “Yes, before you ask, you may continue masturbating within sight or sound of each other, just be very careful not to cast any magic at all.”

And with those embarrassing words in our ears, we left to head back to our room.


	52. Responding to Parental Demands

“So, what’s this thing about tiers?” asked Justin.

“Oh, there’s a theory about magical strength that groups magic users into five groups,” replied Malfoy. “Some people reckon that you’re born into a particular tier and that it’s immutable, while others claim that you can move between neighbouring tiers.”

“Tier One is those with the weakest magic,” continued Neville, “and it’s where my family thought I was when I didn’t show any accidental magic. And Tier Five is the strongest. As with any classification it has its problems, especially those whose strength is on the borderline between Tiers.”

Malfoy added, “also, it’s difficult to work out which Tier a magic user is in until they’ve got through puberty, so the Board has ruled that there will be no testing until after OWLs are completed. Even then, some think it’s too early to label us, but it’s needed for some places of higher learning. Also, some jobs at the Ministry and in the private sector are only available for Tiers Four and Five.”

“Which is elitist crap,” said Neville. “I know some people with a healing talent who are not allowed to work as Healers because they’re _only_ in Tier Three or even Two. A couple of them work as Health Care Assistants at St Mungo’s and help to care for my parents. They’re not even allowed to make suggestions for their care, they just have to follow the plans by the official Healers. I tripped over once when we were visiting and got a blood nose. Those two had their wands out and me healed, cleaned up and sorted in less time than it took for Gran to turn around to find what’d happened.”

“So, it’s kind of like the Eleven-Plus streaming kids to different high schools based on the results of a flaky IQ test,” said Justin.

“Not sure what an Eleven-Plus is,” said Malfoy, “but I get the streaming thing. I mean look at Goyle. Not even his Nan can claim that he’s the brightest kid around—or magically powerful—but I know that he has the potential to be a very capable wizard. Especially when he’s given the right guidance and tools.”

“Yeah, I reckon he could outdo me in practical Transfiguration. Not the theory, but now that Harry’s helped him switch that bit of his brain around …”

“So, why don’t we have enough staff and tutors here to help people like him, rather than depend on the serendipity of having another student with a bit of spare time?” I asked.

“Money,” replied Malfoy. “The endowment is only enough for the current staff.”

“Really? Remember Shankford’s reaction to hearing that Binns is still teaching. Wanted to know where that salary was going.”

The others looked thoughtful.

“I wonder how we could find out,” said Neville.

“Don’t know,” said Malfoy. “Normally I would ask my father, but after his letter this morning that’s not a good idea.”

“Why?” asked Justin.

“Let me read you the relevant bits.

> “‘Dear Draco,
> 
> ‘I trust this finds you well. Your lack of correspondence to us means that I am unable to determine this …’”

Draco paused to roll his eyes. “Given that he has my owl and the wards on the Manor prevent most other owls from getting through, that’s a bit rich.”

> “‘You may not be aware of this, but we are blessed by having our Lord residing with us at present. He is most interested in you and the news that the Sorting Hat has placed you in Ravenclaw has filled him with pleasure, as that is where he also was placed in his Fifth Year.
> 
> ‘The chance to expand your sphere of influence in the House of the Eagle is one that you must seize with both hands and help to bring in followers for our Lord. Do not fail me in this, for it will bring great honour to our Family and to our Name.
> 
> ‘Of course, the greatest thing to achieve will be to bring in any of the so-called Golden Trio, but most especially Potter. I am sure that you are working on this even now.
> 
> ‘As our Lord is residing with us, the schedule that I discussed with you before you departed for Hogwarts has been brought up, and He will Mark you as a loyal follower over the Yule break instead of waiting for the Summer. That will give you the distinct honour of being the youngest ever to have been Marked by our great and illustrious Lord.’”

“Then he goes on to talk about matters around the Manor.”

We were all silent for a while as we contemplated what we’d heard.

Neville broke the silence. “Will a logical argument of needing to room with us without revealing yourself yet work?”

“It might with my father, but from what Potter’s told us of Riddle’s mind, he’s not exactly a logical thinker.”

“Would Snape be able to protect you?” asked Justin.

“No,” I said. “He bears the Mark himself and it would be seen as being disloyal. Dumbledore is out, as he wouldn’t trust your genuineness, or would want to use you as a mole inside Riddle’s camp. My other guardians have got other roles to play. There really is only one possibility who could help.”

“Yes,” said Malfoy with a sigh. “Te Awhiorangi. But we know so little about him.”

“Did your mother say anything about it in her letter?”

“Not directly. But then, she couldn’t very well with her letter being enclosed with Father’s. By the way, she mentions that a couple of the peacocks have disappeared and the house elves can’t work out how.”

“Nagini,” I stated.

“Of course, but the elves don’t know about that, unless someone’s bothered to tell them, which is unlikely. However, she’s definitely not happy about the situation, but can’t do much to prevent it.”

“Is she marked?”

“Heavens no. Aunt Bellatrix is the only marked female Death Eater, and that’s only because she nagged him ceaselessly until he gave in. The Dark Lord is as bent as they come. Last thing he wants is female company in his inner circle. Mind you, I understand that she thinks she can convert him to enjoying female company. Her deepest desire is to be ridden by him and then bear him a child to take on his mantle. Isn’t going to happen. Riding Wormtail is much more like it.”

“Urghh,” was the general response.

“At least she’s in Azkaban,” I said.

“Yes, and long may she rot there,” said Neville in a tight tone that I hadn’t heard from him before.

Seeing the look that Justin and I gave, Draco explained that Bellatrix was the leader of the group that tortured Neville’s parents into insanity. We promptly gathered Neville into a group hug.

“No magic,” he sniffed.

“No, just lo… uh, care,” said Justin.

Then we went to sit at our desks for the remaining time to Lunch, while Draco draughted a letter back to his father.

After a bit, he said aloud, “how does this sound?

> “Dear Father,
> 
> “Thank you for your letter with its budget of news. Mother mentioned your illustrious guest in a letter last week. What a joy it must be for you to have been selected for the privilege of hosting him and his entourage. I can almost imagine the fascinating conversations the two of you are having.
> 
> “While I am fully cognisant of the signal honour of being Marked at so young an age, I must decline at this point in time. The risks of being found out by the other side while here at Hogwarts are too great and would greatly jeopardise the cause of the Dark Lord. It would just need my sleeve to ride up at the wrong moment in a Quidditch match or while stirring a potion for it to be revealed. As you know the Mark does not permit the use of glamours to hide it.
> 
> “There is also the problem of sharing a bathroom with my room-mates. They would notice and recognise the Mark on my return to Hogwarts after the winter break. Although I am working subtly upon them and promoting the cause, such a blatant thing as the Mark would be apt to cause them to report me immediately to Professor Flitwick, who would have to initiate proceedings for an expulsion hearing. Even if such a hearing fails, my reputation—and yours by association—would be tainted and the Dark Lord’s agenda for Hogwarts would be set back considerably.

“Then I go on to talk about the up-coming match against Gryffindor. What do you think?”

“Well, my father would smell a rat if I wrote something like that to him,” said Justin. “But it does cover what you need to say.”

“Draco?” asked Neville. “Have you not told your father who your room-mates are?”

“Of course not. Telling him that I’m rooming with—sorry for swearing—a mudblood, the half-blood who caused Riddle’s supposed demise, and a wizard who most people think is a squib, would be the quickest way to have me removed from Hogwarts and sent to Durmstrang. In the Malfoy family I have no say over that sort of thing until I’ve reached my second majority. And with the way my face is not sprouting hair, that’s not going to be any time soon.”

“I thought second majority was at eighteen,” said Justin.

“It’s different in different families. Mine’s one of the ones that requires men to be able to grow a full beard before they obtain it.” And he sighed. “First weekend of every month we’re not allowed to shave. We then gather away from the women-folk on Sunday evening to prove the level of our virility. We have to be at least thirteen to be allowed to attend. It was the first time I’d ever seen any adult male without a shirt on. A couple of my father’s cousins are pretty gross when they’re bare-chested. I don’t want to ever look like that.”

“How do you prove your first majority then?” asked Neville.

“Don’t have to, because of the age of thirteen thing. It’s the usual either/or.”

“Either/or?” asked Justin.

“Either first full ejaculation or thirteen years old, whichever is earlier.”

“You know what? The magical world is weird. Who came up with that?”

“As it happens,” I said, “I know the answer to that. At the time of William the Conqueror, there was a Dark Lord who was recruiting children and training them as the equivalent of suicide bombers. When the Council of Wizards worked it out, they co-operated with the muggle curia regis to pass laws in both worlds that defined the commencement of adulthood and made it illegal to use children to fight in wars. The magical world went one step further and performed a ritual that made it impossible to do so. It’s still in effect.”

“How do you know that, Harry?” asked Neville.

“In the aftermath of the Chamber of Secrets thing Hermione was doing some research into how Ginny was suborned despite the ritual being in effect, and I ended up interested enough to read up on what she was talking about.”

“What’s a curia regis?” asked Justin.

“Old name for what later became the Privy Council,” replied Malfoy. “Anyway, do you think the letter covers it?”

“For the opening sally, yes,” said Neville. “Then we wait to see what they come back with.”

“Who are you going to use to send it?” I asked. “Your mother really does want you to keep Hermes here and he does need you.”

“I thought Artemis was your owl,” said Justin.

“No, he’s Mother’s. He was just here with me for the first week so that I could let her know how I was settling into the new year. He’s back with her now. If I send Hermes, then Father will keep him again.”

“Why don’t you ask Hermes for advice?” I suggested. “Oh, and we’d better check him over for tracking or locating spells. He was acting a bit strangely this morning.”

Draco went silent for a moment, then went to the window to open it. Hermes sailed in followed by Hedwig. They came and landed on our shoulders, then leant up against us.

I let out a huff of laughter, then said, “well, Malfoy, what do you think? Shall we give them permission?”

“Of course. It’s a relief to know that not everyone around me is bent.”

I laughed again, then said to Hedwig, “yes, you may allow Hermes to court you. But before you go off to do that, can you please suggest which of the Hogwarts’ owls would be best to use while you’re indisposed?”

She gave a little squawk and a moment later a sharp-eyed brown owl with crested ear tufts appeared at the window bobbing his head. Malfoy looked at Hermes, who preened some chest feathers before hopping down to perch on the back of Malfoy’s chair.

“Alright, little one. We’ll give you a try on the recommendation of our friends.”

The brown owl gave out a quiet “hoo” and came across to Malfoy’s desk to accept the sealed envelope, before flying silently out the window again.

There being only a few minutes left until the lunch bell, we sorted out our bags for the afternoon while chatting about things generally.

“You know,” I said musingly, “that’s three dark lords this century, all of whom prefer the company of men for intimacy. Is being bent a requirement in the job description?”

“What? Grindelwald wasn’t straight?”

“No, and from the hints that I’ve picked up, he and Dumbledore had a thing going for quite a while.”

“So, that’s what Te Awhiorangi meant on Sunday when he talked about Dumbledore’s ex-lover.”

“Yep, and I suspect a magical affinity was involved.”

“But Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“They’re both still alive, right?”

“Ye – e – es?”

“Means the affinity is still active. Some of Dumbledore’s magical strength is coming from that link with Grindelwald.”

“Well, shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For biological males the first majority is achieved on the birthday following first full ejaculation or at 13, whichever is earlier. The second majority either at 18 or when they can grow a full beard—different families have different rules.
> 
> For biological females, first majority is the birthday following onset of menarche or at 13, whichever is earlier. The second majority is always at 18.
> 
> Enlightened though much of the wizarding world is, they only have laws that cover cis-gender.


	53. Sorrowful Songs

After lunch we headed through a rainstorm down to the Glasshouses. Millicent Bulstrode had learnt a rain repelling charm over the summer and was happy to teach it to us, so we arrived at Glasshouse Three in a relatively dry state ready for a fun session of harvesting bubotuber pus for the third-year students to use in Potions next week. Michael, Terry, Seamus, and Dean joined us at our table and our topics of conversation ranged widely as we worked together in a production chain.

Terry kept up a steady series of monitoring charms to make sure that our hands remained completely covered and that our exposure to the fumes was minimised, while Michael was on cleaning down the table between each round of tubers. Neville and Justin did the opening of the roots, Seamus and Dean squeezed and scraped the pus out, while Draco and I suctioned it into the waiting jars.

After half-an-hour we were all done with our allocated tubers. Professor Sprout was busy dealing with a burnt hand and someone else who had succumbed to the fumes and was now retching uncontrollably, so we transfigured some stools and got Neville to test us on our plant identification skills.

After about ten minutes, she came bustling over to see what we were up to. “Really, you did all of those already?”

“Yes, Professor, we set up as a chain gang,” said Michael.

Justin choked for a moment, then said, “uh, production chain.”

Michael looked puzzled, “isn’t that the same thing?”

“No,” I said. “A chain gang is group of prisoners who are physically chained together while they do heavy manual labour. A production chain is what we did, where we each did a part of the overall job.”

“Anyway,” said Professor Sprout, “what have you been doing in the meantime?”

“We’ve been working on plant recognition,” said Dean. “Neville’s been testing us.”

Her face took on a pleased smile. “Good. As it happens, I’ve just received a consignment of new plants, but the labels have got messed up. I would be appreciative of the help to sort them out.”

“Where are they, Professor?”

“In Greenhouse Two—next door.”

As we packed up to head in there, there was another scream of pain. “Oh, my hand.”

“My sympathy levels are taking a hit,” commented Malfoy. “The methods to protect our hands were clearly taught to us in First Year—and reinforced each year after that.”

There were general hums of agreement and we proceeded to spend a pleasant hour unpacking crates of seedlings and sorting out their labels. I was pleased to find that there were only a couple of species that I didn’t recognise and needed Neville’s help to resolve. Mind you, he refused to answer directly and made me work it out from various clues.

The rain had eased by the time we headed to History, and we reached the castle doors in a mostly dry state. A quick drying charm to my left shoe resolved the squelch from stepping in an unavoidable puddle. Seamus and Dean split off in the direction of the Charms corridor when we reached the first floor and the six of us went across to the History classroom.

“And now we come to a most interesting period of magical history. The time when magic first walked upon these islands. The twin brothers, Hengist and Horsa, arrived on the south coast of Vortigern’s kingdom. They were both magic users and working together, they amazed Vortigern and his court with their conjurations—the like of which had never been witnessed before. They were rewarded handsomely and were given letters of introduction to the neighbouring kings of Wessex and Cymru. There they also worked great signs of wonder. They were granted residence on the Isle of Thanet whence they and their families disseminated magic across our islands.”

A groan came from beside me and I turned to find Justin looking pained. “What a load of bollocks,” he muttered. “Even Geoffrey of Monmouth did better than this.”

“Yes, magic was here long before the arrival of the Saxons,” added Neville.

Hermione threw down her quill and raised her hand.

“Professor?”

Binns came to a stop in his discourse and peered enquiringly around the room before his eyes lit on Hermione.

“Ah, yes, Miss Grantham? Is there a problem?”

“Sir, did you really just say that Hengist and Horsa were the first users of magic to walk upon the British Isles?”

“Why yes, young lady. You have hit on it exactly.”

“Well, then how is it that at the beginning of last term—after the Spring Bank Holiday—you told us of the magic users of the Angles? You also covered their relations with the Picts, and the Druids of the Celts. Also, this time last year, you covered the history of the Goblin Race and their relationship to the Pax Romana in the year 43 of the Common Era after Aulus Plautius invaded England at Emperor Claudius’ command. This would seem to be antithetical to the concept that the Saxons brought magic to the British Isles.”

Binns blinked for a moment, then started maundering about different kinds of magic users. “The kind of magic user that we would recognise today were we to meet them walking in Diagon Alley derives from the Saxon wizards.”

Malfoy cut in before Binns could fully wind up. “So, neither Aurelius Ambrosius nor Myrddin Wylt were recognisable magic users? For neither of them were derived from Saxon wizards, and yet they most certainly had magic and walked these Isles.”

“Mr. Moffat, that is what is known as a specious argument, for it is well known that they are the same person, hence the name Merlin Ambrosius.”

“I’m sorry, but does that mean that you believe Geoffrey of Monmouth to be a reliable source of information?”

“In general, yes, his recension of the historical data into a single coherent whole was generally accurate. There were a couple of minor errors around the order in which events occurred, but these do not detract from the overall historicity of his account.

“However, we are getting away from the topic at hand, which is the introduction of modern magic to the British Isles. Vortigern’s marriage to Rowena—the daughter of Hengist—was more than political, for it brought out the magic that was latent in the people and a strong line of powerful magic users resulted.”

“Poppycock!”

A silence fell across the room as Professor Binns went completely still before turning towards the male Hufflepuff section of the room. He floated over to Grant Stanton, then said “what did you say?” There was an undertone in his voice that I’d never heard there before.

“I said, ‘poppycock,’ sir. My intention was to convey my considered opinion that the facts are very different to those you stated.”

“And you are?”

“Grant Stanton, sir.”

“Mr. Stanton. The last time someone used that word to me, they were immediately challenged to duel. The result of the duel was that they and their arguments ceased to be extant. I consider the word to be a grave insult, derived as it is from the Dutch word for excrement. However, I do not duel men who have not yet reached their full majority, for that brings no honour. I suggest you withdraw your statement and apologise to the class for using such a strong word in their presence.”

There was silence as we watched Stanton decide what to do.

“Professor, ladies and gentlemen, I apologise for my use of strong language. However, I do not withdraw my opinion that the statements made about the results of the marriage of Rowena and Vortigern were incorrect.”

The ghost took on an unwonted shade of puce and snapped his fingers under Stanton’s nose.

“Diddle with your shaft in your own time.”

There were a few gasps around the room at this.

“Did he basically just call Stanton a wanker?” I asked.

“Uh-uh,” affirmed Neville.

“We are now going to return once again to the lesson as planned for today,” said Binns firmly. “The first generation of descendants of the marriage between Vortigern and Rowena, included Vortimer, Pascent, Catigern, and Faustus. The first of these was a warrior priest who died without issue.”

And then he rambled back off into yet another interminable genealogy.

~~

After the Runes’ study period where we revised the Fourth-Year material, we returned to our room rather than go to the library. Between us we had copies of the relevant texts on the Saxon invasion of Prydain and were well able to sort out the correct sequence of events. Besides which, the rest of the Ravenclaws and Hermione would have emptied the Saxon history shelves between them.

“Something’s got to be done about him,” said Justin. “If he’s getting the basics of English history so wrong, how accurate is the goblin stuff?”

“That is a very good question, Finch-Fletchley. However, one staff member at a time and our Defence instructress is more important than our History professor. Getting a date of birth wrong is minor in comparison with failing to put up a shield.”

While he was talking, he was fiddling with something on his desk.

“Ah got it. This is that music by Gorecki that you were asking about Potter.”

And the deep tones of double basses filled the room. Gradually, more string instruments were added, and the music swelled and ebbed before the glorious sound of a solo soprano shone through. Her lament for her dying son was hauntingly beautiful, and I could I focus on nothing else. When the movement came to an end, we were completely silent for about a minute.

“I didn’t understand a word of what she was singing,” said Neville, “but I felt her pain anyway.”

“I don’t know that we’re meant to understand the words,” said Justin. “The voice was written as another instrument in the blend. Who is the singer, Draco?”

“Dawn Upshaw. She’s an American opera singer.”

“Is there more of his stuff around?” I asked.

“That was only the first movement of the symphony. There are another two movements, but we’d have missed the dinner gong if we’d stayed to listen to them as well. The whole symphony is nearly an hour long.”

“When can we listen to the other two movements?” I asked eagerly.

“Later, but remember we do have Quidditch practice tonight, so not until after that.”

Justin gave a bark of laughter. “You sound like my mother,” he said with a grin. Then put on a falsetto voice, “if you’ve been good and eaten all your vegetables, then we’ll see about that as a treat.”

~~

Nine o’ clock saw us returning from the Room of Requirement after a hard session of hurling Bludgers around. We found Neville and Justin in the Common Room with the boys and Luna. They’d been helping them structure their Charms’ essays and were discussing the different ways of saying something in their own words.

We left them to it and went up to our room to get changed and shower. When we’d finished, they’d also joined us, and Malfoy needed no persuading to play us the other two movements, while we lounged in our sitting area. Malfoy and Neville shared the couch, while Justin and I had the chairs.

At the conclusion of the third movement, there was nothing to be said and we quietly got ready for bed.

I made sure my flying imagery was up and I drifted off to sleep. My dreams were accompanied by the clear voice of a lamenting woman as she sought the one she had lost. I was trying to help her find them, but was unable to work out who we were looking for. Eventually her voice thinned into the whisper of the wind as I flew on.


	54. Another Educational Decree

**Friday 27, September**

The breakfast mail flight brought letters for Malfoy and me. Both came with the brown owl that we had met yesterday.

“Thank you, little one,” said Malfoy, giving it a treat. It bobbed a couple of times, then flew off.

Mine was from Mrs. Weasley thanking me for the invitation to join me for afternoon tea in Hogsmeade and assuring me that she would be there.

“My father says that his house guest has reluctantly accepted my argument for the moment, but I should hold myself in readiness should he be able to work something out to solve things. In the meantime, I’m to get on with recruiting to our side. Oh, and stop causing frustrations for Pansy.”

“What are you going to do about the recruitment thing?” asked Neville.

“Go right ahead.”

“What?”

“Well, he didn’t word it very well, so I can recruit to the side I’m on and still have done what he’s told me.”

“How Slytherin of you?”

“You say that like it’s an insult, but I accept it as the compliment it really is. The Slytherin part of me is strong. You must remember that I was raised by Slytherin parents, both of whom only spent one year of their seven outside of Slytherin. Their fourth years were both in Ravenclaw.”

We were interrupted by the morning announcements, which included the tidings of a new Educational Decree.

“Has anyone see it?” asked Justin.

Laplace piped up. “Eet ees only zat all ze students must be in zere common rooms from seven-zirty for an hour. I don’t understand eet, but …” And he gave a classic gallic shrug.

“Oh, I understand it alright,” said Draco grimly. “It’s a full moon tonight and moonrise will be somewhere around eight o’clock.”

“Are there any weres among the students this year?” asked Neville.

“Not sure how many. I’ll need to check. Excuse me for a moment. I need to talk to Rosier and Trenery. Falola, would you please join me?”

“Why Adeyemi?” I asked the others.

“She has creature sight,” said Cho from down the table a bit. “Doesn’t like to advertise it though.”

“So, she knew about Lupin before Snape’s little revelation?” asked Michael.

“Kind of. She only came into her first majority a week before that full moon, so she was still learning about the sight and didn’t understand what it was that she saw.”

“Makes sense,” said Justin. “Anyway, we’d better get down to Potions. Snape’s already left the head table.”

We gathered ourselves quickly and joined the Gryffindors in the Main Foyer before heading down to the Potions classroom together.

Malfoy and Adeyemi caught up with us just as we entered the classroom.

“We’re on to it,” he muttered.

Snape began his lecture with, “Under normal circumstances, the combined Fifth Year class joins me on a collection trip on the night of the first full moon of the academic year. However, the plethora of Educational Decrees prevent such from happening this year.”

His sneer was in full-blown mode and it was refreshing to hear it directed at someone else.

“Tonight was to have been particularly interesting as not only is it a full moon, but there will be a total eclipse in the later part of the night.”

Draco paled at that, pulled a piece of scrap parchment to himself and started scribbling some notes.

“Instead, we must have a virtual version. Aside from the obvious candidate of moon-flowers, what ingredients would we have been looking for? Around the room, one each. Mr. Sedares, start us off please.”

“Wolfsbane leaves.”

“Yes, Ms. Turpin?”

“Evening primrose.”

And so on round the room, by the time it came to us, most of those I knew of had been mentioned.

“Queen of the Night cactus,” was Justin’s offering.

“Very well, but difficult to find in the North of Scotland,” said Snape. “Mr. Longbottom.”

“Dragonfruit flowers, but only if we’re very lucky.”

“Indeed. And why might that be?”

“Each plant only flowers once a year. If it happens to flower during the eclipse of a full-moon, the stamens can be used to make a version of felix felicis that remains active for a full lunar month after ingestion.”

“Five points, Mr. Longbottom. Mr. Potter?”

“Datura, sir.”

He nodded then said, “and, Mr. Malfoy?”

Silence other than his quill squeaking as he wrote.

“Malfoy,” I muttered and nudged him.

He looked up briefly and realised where we were. “I’m sorry, Professor, I missed the question.”

Snape’s face took on the pained look that usually preluded the epithet of “dunderhead.”

“What would we have been looking for on the collecting trip tonight?”

“Moon flowers,” came the instant answer.

“Five points from Ravenclaw, Mr. Malfoy, for not paying attention in class.”

Snape removing points from Malfoy was so unusual that we all gaped at him.

“Oh, in that case _Desmodus rotundus_.”

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What has got you so distracted?”

“The new Educational Decree, sir.”

“What about it?”

“The fact that all students must be in their Common Rooms at the time of moonrise.”

“And?”

“How many students this year are weres? I can think of three immediately. Given the High Inquisitor’s stand on wixen with creature blood, …” and he tailed off.

“Thank you for drawing this to my attention. We cannot discuss it further as it doesn’t pertain to Potions. However, I will see what can be done. Moving back to the topic of today’s lecture.”

And he led us in a discussion on how best to harvest at night and at what time of night it was best to do so.

“As to Mr. Malfoy’s suggestion of _Desmodus rotundus_, these should never be collected at the full-moon as that is when they are least useful and most dangerous. The eclipse just makes it worse on both counts.”

Malfoy raised his hand, “but I didn’t say anything about collecting them. You asked, ‘what would we look for?’ If we were to look for them, we would find the plants they were pollinating and some of their prey that we would also be interested in. Chiropterophilic plants are used in most nutrition potions and flowers harvested after pollination on a full-moon are particularly potent.”

Chiropterophilic? I thought. That sounds awfully like the Latin for bat-loving.

I raised my hand, “uh, if _Desmodus rotundus_ is the animal I think it is, how would finding them lead us to plants? They’re haematophages rather than nectar-eaters.”

“Precisely. Now, get out and go to your next class, while I attempt to do something about the concerns raised earlier.”

As we left Millicent Bulstrode came over and muttered, “thanks for raising that Draco. I was getting worried.”

In response to my questioning look, she said, “like you, my room is looking after a room of Second Years. One of them is a were-tapir. Most of the House has no idea and it’s better that way.”

I agreed. Gryffindors are not exactly tolerant of such differences.

“So, that’s another one, although I’m less concerned about a tapir,” said Malfoy. “There’s a were-barracuda in Hufflepuff. They’ll die if they have to change in the Common Room. They’ve been allowed, up until now, to be in the Lake at full moons. The Merqueen has put some bounds in place that they can’t get through, which keeps her people and the squid safe.”

“Oddly enough,” said Adeyemi, “there are none in our Year—and no animagus either—but I think there is at least one were in each of the other Years.”

We arrived at the Defence classroom at that point and shuffled in in silence ready to continue to read Slinkhard’s tome.

“Good morning, children.”

“Good morning, Professor Umbridge,” was chorused back without any appearance of enthusiasm.

“I do hope that this morning finds you well and ready to continue our adventures in exploring the various aspects of Defence. Today, we shall make a start on Chapter Six. There won’t be time to get through it all in this single period. You may begin to read.”

‘Oh, thank you most gracious and esteemed professor,’ I thought with full-blown sarcasm filling my mind. I caught myself and brought up the flying imagery and bent to the task of reading about how to prevent pride of getting in the way of a successful defence.

Two pages later the chapter came to an end, and I turned the page to find that the words ‘Chapter Seven’ were inscribed at the top of the page. What did she mean there wouldn’t be time to get through all of Chapter Six? I think her grip on reality is well different from the rest of the world—probably not helped by the generous doses of gin.

I wondered if anyone was going to be brave enough (or stupid enough) to ask her why a three-page chapter would take so long. It sure wasn’t going to me. I had no wish to try her the day before a Hogsmeade weekend.

One by one, I heard or felt the astonishment of my classmates as they turned that page. I quickly turned back and pretended to be reading through it again.

“Is there a problem, children?” came in sweet tones.

“No, no problem, Professor Umbridge,” was the quick response from several voices around the room.

“Then why are most of you no longer reading?”

Silence.

“You,” and she pointed at someone. “Why have you stopped reading Chapter Six?”

“Uh,” said Dean. “Because I’ve finished it already.”

“Impossible! That chapter took me three hours to read last night. You cannot possibly have read it in less than ten minutes.”

“But, Professor, it’s only three pages long.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, it is considerably longer than that.”

She pulled a copy out of her desk and opened it. “Now let us count the pages together,” and she held up the book like a kindergarten teacher and pointed to the first page, “one”.

She turned the page, twisted her head briefly, “two, three.” Turned the page and went deathly silent.

I wondered what she was going to do or say. I mean she was never going to apologise for her sarcasm to Dean.

“Continue with reading Chapter Seven,” she snapped.

There was a muffled shuffling as we bent to the task.

~~

“Today we’re going to continue our study of vanishing charms with looking at those for non-liquids. But before we do that let’s just run over what we covered last week on vanishing liquids.”

Once we’d done that, we moved on to discussing the five different vanishing charms.

“There are some others, but they are difficult to control and therefore dangerous to attempt at your level of skill. Please also be focused when using vanishing charms. Most of them cannot be reversed, which is often awkward.”

Margaret Smith raised her hand.

“You said that the laws of nature are obeyed, so where do vanished items go?”

“Ms. Smith, you have anticipated the subject of this week’s essay. Three feet each, due in a week’s time exploring what happens to vanished objects.

“Now, let us move on to practice. Let us start with colliquefacio—the dissolving spell as it is sometimes known. The main emphasis is on the second syllable with a secondary on the fourth col – LEE – que – FA – cee – o. Please don’t use an Italian pronunciation: ‘fachio’ will give you an unintended result.”

We laughed and then practiced saying it before blocks of ice appeared on our desks in response to a flick of his wand.

I managed to get mine to melt into the pan below it quite quickly before looking around to see how the others were doing.

“Ms. Davis, applying heat via a warming charm is not really in the spirit of what you’re meant to be working on. Two points off.

“Now that you’ve all got a puddle of water, you might as well practice a liquid vanishing spell. Please vanish your water into this bucket.”

Now that one I knew how to do, given the practice I’d been getting recently thanks to the ‘pink inquisitive one’—to use Dobby’s nickname. Then I remembered that I hadn’t asked Dobby about Limon and whether his debt to her had been paid.

“Now, abolesco and dispareo have similar effects in that you cannot get the objects back, whereas abfugio is similar in effect to what you have just done in moving the water from your desks to the bucket. The other OWL level vanishing charm is dilabor. Does anyone know what dilabor actually does?”

Inevitably Hermione’s hand was in the air, but there were a few others also.

“Ms. Cotterill?”

“It causes the object to split up into its components.”

“Good. Now, depending on the intent of the caster, the components can range from pieces down to atoms. So, given that statement, how might this be different to reducto? Mr. Malfoy?”

“Reducto is about destroying something without concern for what happens to it; while dilabor is more about taking something apart so that the components might be reused.”

“So, why is dilabor classified among the vanishing spells?”

This time not even Hermione’s hand went up.

“Very well, turn to page 47 in your textbook and see if you can work it out.”

It was Tracy Davis who raised her hand first.

“I think it’s to do with the fact that the object itself no longer exists.”

“Yes, and …?”

“Well, it’s kind of like deliquesco, where the liquid is broken up into the molecules and dissipated into the air.”

“Exactly!” he cried. “Two points.”

Stanton asked, “so is there a way to sublimate an object directly? I mean, if deliquesco does liquid to gas and colliquefacio does solid to liquid. Is there a way of doing both at the same time?”

Flitwick’s face took on a pleased grin. “Absolutely there is, but that’s final year NEWT work and you need to have mastered the two parts first. And yes, deposition—forming a solid out of gas—is also possible. However, this is very difficult to do with magic and most wixen are unable to achieve it with any degree of finesse.

“Now, to practice. Dilabor and colliquefacio are the targets today. The others will be over the next few weeks.”

And so, we spent a happy forty minutes melting ice sculptures and destroying rag dolls. The fact that the dolls were often dressed in pink robes only boosted the happiness.

The smiles continued through a lunch of chunky tomato soup and wholemeal rolls, before Neville and I headed to the library, while Justin and Malfoy went off to Arithmancy.

I started with redoing my Astronomy calculations and, this time, managed to get the stars to appear in the right place. After twenty minutes mapping out the essay on vanishing charms, it was random topic time. I know there were a few things I wanted to look at, but today I decided to wander into the shelves and just grab a book at random and see what turned up.

I went up and down several aisles before an itch appeared at the back of my neck leading me down past the geography books to a set of shelves I’d not looked at before. I bent down to reach the lowest shelf and, when my hand touched the shelf, two books slid out towards me. I picked them both up and went back to the table I’d been studying at before looking at them.

They were both in plain brown leather covers with gold lettering on the spine. One had the unpromising title of _Landforms of the Late Miocene_ while the other was called _Users of Magic in the Pleistocene_.

I went with the Miocene book to begin with and was soon immersed in a world where the continents were in different places and many of the mountain chains of today didn’t exist or were only beginning to form. I was principally skim-reading and looking at the illustrations as I knew I had limited time, then I found a chapter on the ancestors of today’s hominids. It was in the late Miocene (about 6 million years ago) that the ancestors of humans and chimpanzees separated. I suddenly wondered, does that mean that chimpanzees and bonobos have access to magic? After all, its use is about intent rather than the words used. And where do the other magical hominid creatures fit in?

I grabbed the other book hoping for answers. The author was careful to state that this work was theoretical as it’s not possible to determine from the fossil record which species or individuals in a species had magic. However, it appeared that, just as _Homo sapiens_ appeared very recently, so too with human use of magic. The various forms of elf, goblin, dwarf, giant, and even gnome, that walk upon the earth today all have their origin in the various species of _Australopithicus_. Hence the ability to reproduce cross-species. Puts that awful fountain in perspective.

Harpies, and banshees were examples of parallel evolution, while centaurs were a mystery yet to be elucidated, for there are none in the fossil record.

“Harry?” It was Neville. “It’s time to pack up and head to the gym.”

I quickly pulled my stuff together, got Madam Pince to add the two books to my list, and we headed over.

~~

Te Awhiorangi and Stagnant were there already and were having a bench-pressing competition. We did our warm-ups while watching them. Te Awhiorangi’s long arms were a disadvantage as he had to make the bar travel much further, while Stagnant’s barrel chest and short arms made it much easier.

“Well, human? Want to give up?”

“I don’t think so, goblin. That was only 180 kilos and your poor heart won’t stand the strain of more.”

A feral grin followed by a snap of fingers saw a pair of plates come from a stack in the corner and add themselves to the bar. “200 then.”

He got under it, pushed his feet against the floor and lifted the bar off the rack. It wavered a moment, then descended to touch his chest, rose a little, fell back, then with a grunt from the Battle Master, it moved slowly back up until his arms were straight once again. Once it was re-racked, he let out the breath he’d been holding, then clambered to his feet and bowed ironically.

Te Awhiorangi chuckled and took his place on the bench. The bench and rack automatically adjusted to the bigger man. Then he followed suit, but didn’t re-rack at the top; instead allowing the bar to descend once again before pressing it back up twice.

“Three reps should be enough,” he said mildly.

“What’s your 1RM, Ariki?” asked Justin.

“Theoretically 275 kg, but I’ve never attempted it. And don’t intend to.”

“As for mine, it’s impossible to determine because goblin anatomy automatically uses magic when under strain. I had to work at not using it just then.

“Right, all warmed up? Good, into it then.”

Once again, the two of them worked with all four of us at different times, adjusting our grip or position to give us the best chance to ace each set. It was the first time that Te Awhiorangi had seen me do the farmer carries and he was as surprised as Stagnant had been when he realised how much I could manage.

“I doubt I can carry that much for forty steps. Keep your hips forward and reduce the length of your stride a little.”

I got out “thirty-eight … thirty-nine … forty,” lowered the weights gently to the floor, then dropped into a front plank position and let my pulse settle while I breathed deeply, and Malfoy counted out forty seconds for me. I did it two more times and, having carefully calculated my steps around the gym, was able to put the dumbbells back on the rack at the end of the third set instead of the floor.

It was then Draco’s turn with the twenty kilo weights. He nearly dropped them halfway through the third set, but stopped walking for a moment and managed to keep hold long enough to get the rest of the steps done. I racked the weights for him, while he did his plank with Stagnant counting for him.

We were joined by Neville and Justin for our sets of dumbbell curls to finish with. Te Awhiorangi joined in on those as well. They were doing three sets of eleven, while Malfoy and I had two sets of 15.

“Slower on the way down, all of you. I want you to feel the burn. Control the movement, no jerking the weights. Good. Keep it like that.”

We were sent to warm down, drink half a litre of water each, and shower.

We reached the changing room find the guys getting change quietly. I wondered what was going on when I realised that Snape was standing over to one side reading a book.

“No loitering, Mr. Cunningham,” was all he said.

We showered quickly and dressed in silence. Dobby appeared with our post-workout snacks, then took our used gym gear away. As we were about to leave Snape stirred himself.

“Kindly follow me.”

And he led us to the other wing and into a room with a familiar door. Familiar to me at least, as it was Fluffy’s room. The trapdoor had gone, but the scratch-marks on the floor and walls were still there.

Gathered in the room were nine students from all the years except ours, along with the other three Heads of House.

“Oh, good,” said McGonagall, “you found them, Severus.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for delay. My writing time has been focused on some real life matters.


	55. The Effects of an Eclipsed Full Moon

End of last chapter: Gathered in the room were nine students from all the years except ours, along with the other three Heads of House.

“Oh, good,” said McGonagall, “you found them, Severus.”

“Yes, they weren’t far away.”

“Now, gentlemen,” squeaked Flitwick. “As you know, there is mischief afoot as we approach moonrise. The Heads of Houses think we’ve worked out a solution, but we need the co-operation of the Fifth-Year students to accomplish it. The reason for this, is that none of your peer group is in the target group.”

“But why are these students here?” asked Malfoy.

I wasn’t sure if he was pretending ignorance, because it was obvious that these were the students who various kinds of were-creature.

“These students are those who are being targeted.”

“In that case, you’re missing at least another three. And you’ve got two who are not going to transform this evening.”

“But these are the one’s listed in our files.”

“Well, your files are wrong. I assume the information came from a source external to your House. Potter, do you happen to know where Ms. Falola is at present?”

“One moment and I’ll find out,” I said and went over to a window at the back of the room, quietly swore solemnly, spotted her on the map, declared that mischief had been managed, and said, “coming back up to the Castle from the Black Lake.”

“Thank you. Longbottom?”

“Onto it. Coming with me Justin?”

“No, I think I’ve got a different task coming.”

“Yes, can you please go to our Chamber and retrieve my kit from the second drawer on the left of my desk?”

“Sure. Back shortly.”

“Potter, where was the trapdoor?”

I indicated its location and Malfoy then turned to the Professors. “Professor Snape, could you please prepare a pentacle centred on the hidden trapdoor?”

“Size?”

“Ten paces with two-cubit points. Everyone else keep to the sides of the room.”

“But isn’t using a pentacle dark magic?” asked one of the older students.

“Whatever gave you that idea Ms. Watson?” asked Professor Sprout. “The pentacle is an essential part of all protective magic, regardless of the hue. Why, the greenhouses are laid out in the shape of a pentacle. You should have been taught this in both your Defence and History classes.”

“Given Professor Binns has no interests outside the genealogy of the Goblin nations, I really can’t see that happening,” came the response.

I noted the careful avoidance of mentioning Defence professors, but had no time to think about it further as Malfoy asked me to go round the students and get them to give the oath of secrecy that Snape had come up with when we were releasing Andrew Tenggara’s binding.

In the meantime, he was consulting a leather-bound book he’d pulled out of his bag.

I was just getting the last pair to give their oath when Neville, Adeyemi, and Justin arrived back in the room. Justin handed over the bundle he was carrying to Draco, then administered the oath to Adeyemi.

“Falola, the staff have these nine students on their list as weres.”

“But where are the others? And why are those two animagi here?”

“Animagi?” asked Professor McGonagall. “Who?”

Watson, the seventh year Hufflepuff who’d worried about the pentacle and Lucas Parker, a fourth year Gryffindor, put their hands up.

“Why haven’t you told me? And are you registered?”

Shrugs were the answer to the first question and they both affirmed that they were registered.

“What creatures are you, when you transform?” asked Malfoy.

“Does the oath of secrecy cover us as well?”

“Yes, Ms. Watson,” said Professor Sprout. “The way Mr. Potter worded it covered all witnessed magic.”

She promptly dropped to all fours becoming a badger as she did so. Parker was more reluctant, but encouraged by a friend from Slytherin, he transformed into a cobra.

“You sseee, Potter, why I didn’t want to do thisss. Not very housse of Lionsss iss it?”

“No, but thisss iss usseful to know. There iss sssomeone elssse in the sschool who can sspeak. I promisse not take advantage.”

He transformed back before saying, “I’ll hold you to that.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you speaking in Parseltongue, Harry,” said Justin. “Just brings back bad memories. Oh, don’t worry, I _do_ believe you. But I really did think that that mamba was heading straight for me.”

“Ms. Falola,” said Professor Snape, “I understand from Mr. Malfoy that you have the ability to tell us who the missing weres are.”

“Well, I know of another four, but I’m not sure if I’ve _seen_ everyone in the school. I assume this is about finding a way to protect them all from the latest Decree.”

“Indeed. If you could kindly elucidate the names of the known missing, then we can get them in here as well. You two will have to stay here for the moment as your minds are not strong enough to occlude unless you’re in your animagus form. And a badger and a cobra wandering around the Common Rooms is not a good idea tonight.”

Adeyemi gave the names of the four students and, after I’d located them, Professors Flitwick and Sprout went in search of them. Three in the library and one in her Common Room.

While that was happening, Malfoy explained to the three of us what we were going to do. We asked a few questions, then got ready.

When Flitwick and Sprout got back with the four students, we placed all the students in a circle in the pentacle—without touching the centre, of course. The Professors went one to each corner of the room, Flitwick taking Adeyemi with him. And, finally, we took the sides, with me in front of the window.

We then sent out three strands of magic each, one to each of the other three, and wove them together to form a dome over the pentacle. Malfoy sang a note, which was repeated by each of us, before we sang it together. Then he went up a major third, and we did the same, followed in turn by the fifth and the octave. He then took us back to the first note and used the minor third. The last time round he took us through a diminished seventh chord.

Having learnt our notes, we then sang them as chords. Justin stayed on the tonic, while I had the dominant, with Neville and Malfoy varying the mediant and top note as needed.

The chords came faster, swelled to a forte before dropping away into a soft continuous murmur. There was a small cry from the middle of the circle of students when the trapdoor appeared and flipped open with a crash, but the student was instantly hushed by the others. A deep blue light shone from the opening and the notes we were singing were heard coming up from below.

A single chime on Justin’s note was heard and we dismantled the dome by pulling the threads of magic back to ourselves.

“Okay,” said Malfoy. “Hogwarts has set up special rooms for each of you to transform in safely. You two Animagi are included. The magic we’ve just done will move you to those rooms at the instant the moon has risen. Go to dinner as normal, go to your Common Rooms as expected, and allow this to happen.”

“But the decree says that we must be in the Common Rooms for an hour across the transformation time. How are you dealing with that?” asked Rajiv Sharma, a Hufflepuff Fourth Year.

“Simulacra.”

“Huh?”

“When the real you disappears, a copy will remain. When the hour is up the simulacra will stretch and yawn and mutter something about it being a hard week then wander off before disappearing. Hogwarts won’t record you as breaking curfew because she knows where you are.”

“What do you need to do to set them up?” That was a Slytherin Sixth Year, named Zara.

“Already done.”

“What? How?”

“Don’t worry about how, Ms. Stuart,” said Snape. “Just accept that it’s been dealt with.”

“And, yes, before you ask,” added Malfoy to a student I didn’t know. “Your room has water at the correct temperature.”

“Now, we must all leave this room,” said McGonagall. “If I read it correctly no one will be able to return to it through that door before moon-fall at seven thirty tomorrow morning.”

It was Neville who confirmed that supposition and Malfoy waited until everyone had left before pulling the door closed behind him. As he did, a pair of loud clicks were heard, and the door faded into the wall.

Adeyemi had hung back so that she could walk with us across to Ravenclaw.

“You know that there’s more to be done, don’t you?” she asked.

I looked puzzled at her. The ritual had felt complete, so I wasn’t sure what might be missing.

“What’s your word for it, Falola?” asked Draco.

“Fadaka, but not just that. It’s fadaka ẹjẹ.”

“I’m sorry,” said Justin, “but I don’t know your language. Can you translate, for me?”

“Yes, but not here.”

We talked about Quidditch the rest of the way to the Common Room. Once we were in, we huddled in the corner by one of the fireplaces.

“Fadaka ẹjẹ is Yoruba for argentus sanguis,” she said.

“Bl—,” started Justin.

“Don’t say it,” said Malfoy in an urgent low voice. “We need to talk to MacMillan, Bones, Greengrass, Nott, Bulstrode, and Sedares before the hour starts and give them a heads up on what to watch out for. We four, sorry five,” and he bowed his head to Adeyemi, “can manage here, but the other houses will be problematic.”

“Can’t they ally with the Heads?” asked Neville.

“Yes, but that’s only going to work if _she_ lets the Heads alone for long enough to be in the Common Rooms after the roll-call.”

Just then the warning gong for dinner sounded.

“Damn, that means we’ve run out of time,” said Malfoy.

“Not necessarily,” I said. “Let’s go up to our Chamber and dump our bags. Grab some of your origami paper. We can get messages to them during dinner.”

Dinner for us was baked fish with a tomato risotto. While we were eating, Draco and I were also drafting notes and sending the folded birds off to their intended recipients. I did an extra one to the twins, as I didn’t know Sedares well enough to know how he would cope with fadaka ẹjẹ.

While we were eating our dessert of fruit salad and yoghurt, I started looking casually around and managed to catch the eye of some of our note targets. They each gave a short nod, then looked back down at their meals or turned to their neighbour.

When Professor Dumbledore got up to address us, there was a feeling through the student body of something bubbling just below the surface. Tension? anticipation? I wasn’t sure what it was.

“Before I begin to give you this evening’s notices, I would like to introduce you to Ms. Pesa Finau. She has joined the staff of Hogwarts as our sign language interpreter.”

A Polynesian woman came and stood beside him, signed quickly, and then acknowledged our welcoming applause with a shy smile and a quick head bow.

“Anyone who has not yet given their Hogsmeade permission slip to their Head of House, must do so this evening—if they wish to visit it tomorrow. The earliest that anyone may leave the Castle tomorrow is ten thirty.

“Mr. Filch tells me that there is a problem with stairwell six and thus he has blocked it off until it can be attended to.

“As you should all be aware by now, there is an Educational Decree requiring you all to be in your House Common Room for a full hour from seven thirty this evening. There are no exceptions to this for anyone. So, please ensure you have availed yourself of the facilities before then. At the conclusion of the hour, senior students are free to move about the Castle until curfew.”

We were then dismissed with less than an hour to go.

There was a rush to get through the doors and the resultant log jam was in danger of crushing some of the students as more joined the pack and started pushing.

Justin and my eyes met across the table and we reached instant agreement. But before we could even pull out our wands, the prefects had banded together to incant immobulus maximus, which froze the actions of the rear couple of layers of students in the mob. They followed it up with retardatis multatis, which they cast in a loop that flicked up and over the back row and splashed down in the middle.

This kind of held things for a couple of minutes, until the staff could get down. I noticed that Dumbledore didn’t even try to come down, while Umbridge’s face was suffused with glee.

Just as Snape and McGonagall reached us there was a ripping sound and a shriek of outrage, before Parkinson’s voice tore through the noise. “Take your hands off me, you disgusting excuse for masculinity. Shredding my robe, then copping a feel in the middle of a crowd does not make you anonymous.”

That was enough to calm some of the frenzy down and we could hear Te Awhiorangi’s voice out in the Foyer projecting calm and sending those who had got through the doors on their way.

A few minutes later the crowd at the door had thinned sufficiently for us to see that Pansy’s robes were split down the back revealing her camisole and lacy knickers. She had her wand pointed at Bradley of all people.

“Well, that’s unlikely,” said Draco in a low voice from beside me.

“Parkinson, are you seriously accusing me of feeling you up? I have absolutely no interest in you whatsoever.”

Given it was well known that they were asexual and aromantic as well as non-binary, Bradley’s comment was reasonable. However, Parkinson took exception and started into one of her hysterical rants with Lavender providing a counterpoint of commentary on the merits of her bestest friend.

It took the intervention of Professor Sinistra and the Slytherin female prefects to get them on their way to their Common Room.

“Well, that’s left us with only twenty minutes to get up there and get organised,” said Justin.

“We’ll use what we can get. However, I need to take a leak first.”

Ten minutes later we had briefed Carl and Charlotte and were distributed across the Common Room. I was playing Exploding Snap with a group of First and Third years, while Neville was showing an admiring group of Second year girls how to care for bulbs once the flowering has finished. Justin had been inveigled into a few rounds of _Never Have I Ever_ with some of the Fourth and Fifth years (with pumpkin juice rather than fire-whiskey), and Draco was deep in conversation with Titch and Andrew.

Flitwick came in right on half-past and took the roll. No-one was missing and he departed saying that he was needed somewhere else by the High Inquisitor.

As the time ticked on, the feeling of impending turmoil continued to pester me even as I covered a seven of wands with another and leant back just in time as the pile of cards went up with a loud bang. In the back of my mind I was wondering if our working had been good enough and that the simulacra would last out the time.

I sensed rather than saw something being thrown near me and reached out to pluck a silver dagger out of the air. I looked around at where it had come from, but there were no looks to give it away. I glanced across at Draco to see that he was also holding one.

Just then a girl over at the window announced that she could see the edge of the moon coming up and I felt a wash of magic pass near me and heard a grunt of surprise mixed with pain.

“Ow! What you do that for?”

Adeyemi leapt from where she was sitting across to the Fourth-Year student who had exclaimed and called out, “Ms. Trenery, we need some urgent attention here. Mr. Stone has been stabbed with a silver knife.”

“What?” And she hurried over.

Justin rose to his feet and cast incarerous twice in quick succession at people sitting at the table with him. There was a clattering sound as they dropped whatever it was they were holding. Then I heard Laplace shout something and turned in time to see him perform a remarkable flying tackle that would have been the envy of any of the Lions or All Blacks. He ably took down Jeremy Watson—a Fifth Year who I didn’t know very well—and again there came a clatter as he dropped something. Meanwhile Cho and Tracey Davis had cornered Edgecombe and were forcing her to hand over a weapon. Carl and Neville were calling for calm and were supported by Bradley and Roger.

At the height of the furore Flitwick reappeared among us and put up such a strong silencing charm that there was complete and instant quiet. Then he pointed at Carl who was then able to speak.

“It would appear, sir, that some members of the house armed themselves with weapons this evening and were preparing to use them when they were spotted. The actions of other members of Ravenclaw were preventative. However, I do note that Mr. Stone has been stabbed. Mses Trenery and Falola are caring for his wound as we speak.”

“Is there any indication at present as to why the weapons were considered necessary?”

“No sir.”

“Hmm,” was the only response before flicking his gaze around the room, then pointed at Watson.

“Yes sir?”

“I see that M. Laplace has disarmed you. What were you carrying?”

“Two small daggers, sir. They were passed to me with instructions to use them on anyone who started changing when the moon came up.”

Adeyemi indicated that she wanted to speak, and Flitwick pointed at her.

“Sir, the blade that Harvey was stabbed with was imbued with blood. It would appear to be human blood, but it’s of a different type than his and he’s reacting badly. He needs urgent medical attention.”

“Anaï.”

“Yaas Maaster Flittiwick.”

“Is Madam Pomphrey available to come here immediately?”

“No, she is looking after three students with bad wounds.”

“Well, there’s another. Please take Mr. Stone to her at once.”

“Yaas.” And a moment later he was gone. Charlotte cast a silent cleansing charm on the blood that she and Adeyemi had got on them.

“Excellent charm work, Ms. Trenery. Two points.”

I snorted to myself. Ever the teacher.

“Now, Mr. Potter, why do you have a blade in your hand?”

I found myself able to speak and told of having caught it as it flew past my head and that it must have come from the group sitting beside the fireplace. I wasn’t sure who was the target.

“Mr. Malfoy?”

Draco told a similar story, except that the target appeared to be the Second Year sitting just beyond Andrew Tenggara. He wasn’t sure of the origin.

The two girls that Justin had bound in ropes denied any knowledge of how the blades that were on the floor at their feet had come into their possession. Or, indeed, that they even knew they had them before they fell.

“Considering they were in their hands and they were looking around sharply,” said Michael Corner, “I find that hard to believe.”

“And Ms. Edgecombe? How is it that you come to be holding several weapons about your person?”

She looked like she was going to bluster, but then collapsed.

“I was warned that there are several were creatures among the student body, and that I should be ready to deal with them.”

“And who warned you?”

“Professor Umbridge, sir.”

“Very well, I will take a second roll call.”

The only person missing was Harvey Stone. Our simulacra were behaving as wanted.

“So, as there are no missing students and everyone appears to be in their right body and mind, I would suggest that the warning you were given was false. Now, whose blood did you use on the daggers?”

“I think it would have been mine,” came from the girl beside the window.

Oh dear, I thought. The blood of a pure virgin. She hasn’t even reached her first majority.

“It was explained to me that because I had dragon pox last year, my blood was stronger than anyone who’d only had the vaccination.”

Yep, a true innocent. How far was Marietta Edgecombe prepared to go in depravity?

The gong resounded through the castle indicating that the required hour was up, and we were free to move about again. However, Flitwick held us for a few more minutes while he completed his investigations and collected all the blades that we had found.

Once he’d left, the prefects gathered together in front of the main door while the four of us stood in a group at the door to the dormitory corridors chatting to Michael, Terry, Cho, and Adeyemi. This way exit was effectively blocked for everyone. After a couple of minutes, Carl turned to the room and announced that there would be a House Meeting after dinner on Sunday evening. The only excuse to not attend was to be in the Hospital Wing under Madam Pomphrey’s care. We were then given permission to leave.

We managed to get the three Ravenclaw simulacra away from the Common Room between us and Adeyemi and watched them dissolve away from the sight of the other students.

We went to our Chamber and rehashed the situation.

“What about tonight, or tomorrow morning?” I asked. “When their roommates find they’re not in their beds?”

“I had two tasks when we were working the magic earlier,” said Neville. “One was protecting the room from access and the other was to put notice-me-not charms on their beds.”

“Oh. I keep forgetting that when we do a working like that, we do different things at the same time.”

“Yes, Neville was doing security while I worked with Hogwarts to prepare the Chambers down there. Justin was stabilising the pentacle, while you were providing the power for all of us to work with. That’s why you were singing the dominant.”

“Where did you get that ritual from, Draco?” asked Neville. “It’s not one I’ve heard of, and it doesn’t seem to fit within the Malfoy or Black family magics.”

“It’s actually a Rosier ritual. Mother’s mother was Druella Rosier before she married Grandfather Black. When she died, I inherited one of the grimoire.”

“That makes sense. The Rosiers were always grey leaning.”

Draco yawned and said, “I know it’s early for a Friday night, but I have a feeling that we’ll need to get up during the eclipse, so I’m going to get some sleep now.”

It was a measure of how comfortable we were getting with each other, that he stripped down to his boxers without closing his curtains. Then he climbed into bed and flicked his wand to close the curtains.

We three looked at each and decided to follow suit.

~~

I came awake suddenly as I felt someone calling to me. However, the room was completely still. I checked the time, 1:15. The eclipse was due to start at 1:12. Then I heard it again.

“Harry, help.”

I didn’t recognise the voice, so wasn’t sure where it was coming from, or even if it was real and not just inside my head.

A snort came from one of the others, then I heard Neville stirring.

“Wha? Wassamatter?”

I got out of bed and padded over to his.

“What are you hearing, Nev?”

“Someone’s calling for help.”

Draco surfaced next and leapt to his feet.

“Who’s calling?”

“Don’t know,” I said. “I don’t recognise the voice, but the eclipse has started.”

“Damn. Some weres don’t stay transformed during an eclipse, but I didn’t think that any of ours would be among them.”

“What do we do?”

“We’ll need Finch-Fletchley. Can you see if he’s awake yet?”

“Yes, I’m here.” And he laid a warm arm across my shoulders as he came in between us. “What’s happening?”

“Someone’s calling us by name, but it’s not a voice any of us recognise. Malfoy’s theory is that one or more the weres has changed back during the eclipse.”

“The only one that would be problem for is the barracuda, isn’t it?”

“I put a couple of beaches in their chamber, so that they could haul themselves out while waiting for Sprout to get there. So, that shouldn’t be a problem. However, they’ve been here during eclipses before and not had a problem.”

“So, how do we check on them?”

“One strand each with you acting as the anchor and weaver. Need to stop touching though, otherwise we’ll overpower it and wake the Castle.”

We quickly gave Justin a strand of magic each, which he wove into and around one of his. Draco then directed it via the pipes down to the third-floor room. We’d learnt something from that dratted basilisk. It sank down through the trapdoor and twined across the floor between the chambers. I could sense nothing abnormal and shortly we drew the woven strand back and then took our parts of the magic back into ourselves.

“Well, it’s not there,” said Neville.

“But the calling is still happening.”

“Can we use legilimency or a stone to share the voice?” asked Justin.

“Could try a stone,” said Draco. “Not keen on using legilimency until we’ve had some more training.”

Justin pulled out the stone he’d got in the post a couple of days earlier and I went first.

“That’s Vincent Crabbe,” said Malfoy.

“Why’s he calling me?”

“Don’t know. Let’s see who’s calling me.”

“Ginny,” said Neville and I together.

Then Neville touched the stone.

“That’s Harvey who got stabbed earlier.”

“Hospital wing then,” I said. “Let’s get dressed and go across.” And putting action to words, I pulled on trousers, socks and a sweatshirt, before shoving my feet into a pair of shoes. The others were right behind me as I approached the door.

“Hold on, Potter,” said Malfoy. “Check the map first.”

“I solemnly swear, etc. etc. Shit!”

“What?”

“Edgecombe, Powley, and Stanhope are in the Hospital wing, along with Yaxley and Dolohov. Umbridge is prowling the corridor outside it.”

“Where’s Uncle Severus?”

“In his chambers.”

“Lady Hogwarts can you please give me a floo link to Professor Snape’s office?”

A small fireplace appeared with green flames already in it.

“Uncle Severus,” called Draco.

“What is it, Draco? Do you realise what time it is?”

“Yes, just after the eclipse has started. There’s an attack in the hospital wing. Yaxley and Dolohov are there. She’s patrolling the corridor outside.”

“Very well. I will raise the other staff. Go back to bed.”

And he left the call. As he did so the fireplace vanished.

“What do we do now?” asked Neville.

“We go to the Hospital wing, of course,” replied Draco.

“But Snape …”

“But Snape nothing. He didn’t specify which bed to go back to. I’m going to go the bed I was in the last time I was in the Hospital wing.”

I gave a short laugh. “Slytherin.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he airily waved a hand. “Anyone in the Common Room?”

“Only Charlotte. Taking readings of the eclipse I assume, as she’s over at the windows.”

“Alright, let’s get going.”

We quietly left the room and slipped through the Common Room to the exit. As far as we could tell, Charlotte didn’t notice us at all. And we made our way across the Castle to the corridor outside Madam Pomphrey’s domain. The echoing tap-tap of Umbridge’s court heels could be heard as she wandered up and back on sentry-go outside the doors.

Justin waved his hand at the other end of the corridor, where the stairs came down from Gryffindor Tower, and a loud splash could be heard.

She turned sharply in that direction and walked quickly along to investigate. Neville and I simultaneously cast a confundus at the back of her head, then the four of us got through the doors and closed them behind us. I was under the cloak at that point and was last through, cancelling the confundus as I went.

We could hear mocking laughter from the Ward-room as we came closer to it.

“Yaxley,” breathed Malfoy.

“Nothing can save you from the argentus sanguis, you know,” said a rough voice. “We imbued it with a touch of mercury as well. All of you will be dead before this night is out. The eclipse will ensure that.”

“What are you here for then?” came in Ginny’s voice. “If there’s nothing that can save us, I mean.”

“Oh ho, a feisty one who can think.”

“Yeah, but she’s a blood traitor Weasley, so what’s it matter?”

“True Corban, my friend, true,” and then an ugly laugh.

“What are you doing here,” came in a whisper from behind us. “I told you to go to bed.”

“There was mercury mixed into the blood on those blades. The eclipse …”

“Severus, what’s happening? Why are these boys here?” McGonagall had arrived.

I pulled the cloak off my head and quickly explained who was in the ward with the stabbed students and we’d just heard Yaxley and Dolohov say.

“Where’s Poppy?”

“In the private room off the side of the Ward. I assume she’s been forced in there.”

“We need to get them out of there and get some moon-flowers to hold them until the eclipse is over. Direct moonlight is the only way to counteract that mercury.”

“Let me see what I can do about the first part of that,” I said. And, pulling the hood back on, I went up to the Ward door, opened it wide enough to slide in and assessed the situation.

Stanhope was guarding the door to the private room, while the other four were positioned at the foot of the four occupied beds.

I cast the lace tangling charm that the twins had taught me at their feet, then followed it with tarantallegra. Edgecombe and Powley went over with a crash and the magic of the Ward automatically moved them into empty beds on the other side of the Ward. When they tried to get up again, their beds wouldn’t let them. Stanhope managed to counter the jinx, while it didn’t seem to affect the older men.

“Potter is here somewhere. It’s the only possibility,” said Yaxley.

Stanhope’s wand was the next victim and it vanished when it rolled to my feet. A moment later incarcerous hit that spot, but I was elsewhere in the room by then and the ropes fell uselessly to the floor.

In the confusion, they didn’t notice the door open, and Flitwick slip in. He quickly took Stanhope out of the equation and started in on the two men. Yaxley went down in the cross-fire with a cutting curse taking off his wand hand.

Dolohov quickly spun to Ginny’s side and hoisting her up with his left arm used her as a shield.

Vince, Harvey, and Margaret Smith all started shouting imprecations at him, but they had no effect. Flitwick and I had to stop casting anything, for he turned his wand at her abdomen.

“One more spell cast at me, and Ms. Weasley will have no entrails.”

“In the name of all that’s holy, what is going on in here?” McGonagall burst through the door. “Antonin, so is this how you pervert the teaching I gave you?”

“Ah shut yer face, you old bag. Or I’ll do it for you.”

McGonagall wasn’t going to take that lying down and as she continued to berate him, I slipped closer. He’d had enough of the edge of her tongue soon enough and he raised his wand and began to incant a tongue cutting curse. I took that moment to swing a bedpan at his head.

“Ow,” and then he collapsed.

“You can all come in now,” I called as I went across to unlock the door where Madam Pomphrey was stashed.

She burst forth like a mother dragon kept from it’s young and nearly went flying as she tripped on Stanhope. A quick bit of stabilising magic from Snape sorted that out.

“Moon flowers, Poppy. Do you have any in the stores?”

“Moon flowers? What for?”

“Mercury was mixed in with the blood and the eclipse is in progress.”

Luna walked in just then.

“Ms. Lovegood, what are you doing here?”

“The nargles told me that I was needed, so I came.”

And she climbed onto Ginny’s bed and lay down beside her.

“Oh, by the way, there are buckets of moon-flowers in the room out there,” and she waved vaguely in the direction of the door she had just come in by. “I collected them before curfew.”

Snape and Pomphrey moved quickly to bring in the flowers and arrange them in pairs around each of the beds.

After a few minutes, Luna got up from Ginny’s bed and moved to Margaret’s.

“What are you doing, Ms. Lovegood?” asked McGonagall.

“Well, I’m imbued with pure moonlight. I was conceived under a full-moon, born under one, and dedicated to magic under another. This is what they need.”

Flitwick and Justin had disappeared and came back with a troop of aurors. I was pleased to see that Kingsley was among them and happily acknowledged him. He didn’t seem to notice, and I was hurt until I realised that I was still wearing the invisibility cloak. I slipped away for a moment, then come back in full view.

“Ah, Mr. Potter,” said Snape snidely. “I wondered when you would turn up. Seemed most unusual for you not to be present during such an excitement.”

I bowed to accept his acknowledgement, then handed Stanhope’s wand over to Kingsley.

This is not an auror procedural story, so I won’t go through the tediousness of statements and explanations, some of which had to be fudged a little.

Once the aurors had left with Stanhope and the two Death Eaters, I turned to Ginny and said, “why were you calling for Malfoy?”

“I knew from what the twins told me that he’d worked out that something was up tonight, so I thought he’d the best to call for.”

“And Vince? Why me?”

“You knew how to help Greg, so you’d know how to help me.”

It was a simplistic argument, but it suited the stolid man he was becoming. There was definite hope that he and Greg would not follow in their fathers’ footsteps.

“Did you call for anyone, Margaret?” asked Justin.

“Just my mother, I’m afraid. I didn’t know what else to do.”

Luna leapt up from beside Harvey and went back to Margaret and held her in a hug.

“I called for Longbottom, because he helped me lots last year when I was struggling after my parents died.”

By then it was half-past four and the teachers ordered us off to bed.

“The eclipse will finish in about half an hour and we’ll be able to get directly moonlight onto these four. Yes, Ms. Lovegood, you may stay to help. However, you four gentlemen need to get some more sleep. You’ve a busy day ahead.”

I suddenly wondered about Umbridge.

“Sir, what about the High Inquisitor? Why hasn’t she come to investigate?”

“We all came in via the floo in Madam Pomphrey’s office, so she remains blissfully unaware of anything happening in here. Particularly as I cast a muffliato on the doors.”

“Oh. May we use the floo to return to Ravenclaw?”

“Filius?”

“Yes, yes, certainly.”

When we got back to the Common Room, Charlotte was still there tracking the eclipse.

“There’s some hot chocolate on the table there. Drink it and then go back to bed. You’ve been out quite long enough.”

Oh, so she had noticed us leave.

We got back to our room, peeled off our clothes and fell back asleep almost immediately.

**Author's Note:**

> Please review, it's the only way I know if my story is worth continuing.


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